


The Traveler's Door- Supernatural

by Phoenix_Butt



Series: The Traveler's Door Series [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Penny Dreadful (TV), Supernatural, X-Men
Genre: Angst and Feels, Crossover, Eventual Smut, F/M, Freeform, Immortality sucks when you're a slave, Multi, POV First Person, Slow Burn, not exactly a happy ending, strong female lead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 109,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix_Butt/pseuds/Phoenix_Butt
Summary: I am Traveler Lavinia. I am two-hundred and ninety-four years old. What I do is travel story to story making sure they get to their critical fixed moments without fail. If something goes wrong it is reviewed by the Council of Three. Should they find the traveler was negligent, that traveler will be punished. Out of all the travelers that have ever existed, I am the only one who has a one-hundred percent success record. And yet I am the most hated by the Council. I suppose it's mostly because they don't like how I get attached to characters and make personal connections. But there's also the fact that I can't stay dead, which means they can't get rid of me.They should never have taken me from my home in the first place. Some day, all their abuse and hatred of me is going to turn around and bite them in the butt. I hope to have a front-row seat.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Traveler's Door Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1938895
Comments: 13
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any rights to Penny Dreadful, X-Men, Supernatural, or Once Upon a Time.  
> Traveler Lavinia, Gersham, the Citadel, and the Council are mine and should not be reproduced without my permission.

When I step out on the other side I’m in a brick-walled industrial style decorated restaurant with booths and high top tables with matching stools. My door has been placed in a smallish alcove with a spiral staircase not too far off, going up. There is more to the space around the corner of the alcove, a set of glass french doors next to my door go out to a small courtyard with more seating and tables. The smell of alcohol is thick in the air and I’m wondering if this is more of an upscale bar than a restaurant. John and Ethan wait patiently next to me. Just as I start to open my mouth I hear voices around the corner from us. 

“...See I needed you to go on your little adventure today,” says a woman’s voice. “With Lucy. I needed you to start asking yourself, ‘What if it’s all true?’ ‘What if all of Henry’s fairy tales are true?’ Because once you start asking yourself those questions, your brain is all warmed up and I can… push it. Right over the edge.”

“Did you put something in my drink?” says another woman, her voice is huskier.

Then she exhales in shock.

“...Welcome back, Regina.”

Slowly I move to peek around the corner. I see a younger woman behind the bar, short hair, expensive clothes, highball glass with liquor in it. She looks satisfied as she mockingly looks at the slightly middle aged woman on the other side of the bartop. The older woman’s back is to me, but she looks more like the kind of woman to run a bar than the one behind it. 

“Drizella…” murmurs the older woman, obviously the one named Regina. 

Drizella leans forward mockingly and smiles, “Did you miss me?”

Regina lurches forward, her hand like a claw going towards Drizella’s neck. She stops just a couple of inches short, her body language seems confused.

“Ooh, sorry!” laughs Drizella sarcastically. “Land without magic. Well…” she says as she looks down at a small vile in her hand. “Just enough to wake you up.”

Regina doesn’t take her eyes off Drizella until her phone starts to ring. Then a small gasp escapes her mouth and she grabs it up quickly, not answering it.

“Henry!” she whispers.

“I…” Drizella drags the word out long. “Wouldn’t answer that if I were you. Henry can’t know about this.”

“Then why the hell did you wake me up?” snaps Regina.

“Hmm, your mind might be a little foggy from your nap…” Drizella says pointing at Regina’s head. “Just give it a minute.”

Regina sits for a moment and then her head starts to rise in recognition. 

“There it is,” says Drizella with satisfaction. “It’s all coming back. Now, you told me that a hero always breaks the curse. So, I made mine hero proof. Do you remember what I did right before the curse was cast? And why you can’t ever allow it to be broken? You  _ do _ remember… If the curse is broken, something very bad happens to the people you love.” Drizella throws her head back and smiles vindictively. “You should be proud! You know you’re a good teacher when the student surpasses the master.”

“Well, what do you want? Huh?” Regina asks with a tense and choked voice. “You want a gold star? Or did you just wake me to gloat?”

“As much fun as that is,” Drizella replies quickly then she downs her drink and sets it on the bartop. “No. I woke you up because I need your help, I’m on the verge of showing my mother what true suffering means. I can’t have anyone breaking the curse now.”

“You mean…” Regina whispers. Drizella nods and Regina’s shoulder grows tense. “Henry and Jac… Cinderella!” 

Regina’s hands go to her face.

“We both know you’ll do whatever it takes to stop true love’s kiss from ever happening. Now that shouldn’t be too hard for the evil queen. Hm? Right? After all,” Drizella says as she comes out from behind the bar, “breaking hearts is kind of what you’re best at. Right?”

Drizella grabs her gold chained purse from a bar stool as she goes. I pull back to press against the wall, the guys follow suit. The  _ clack, clack _ of her heeled boots sound as she makes her way toward and then past our hiding spot toward the front door. She doesn’t seem to notice us at all from her victorious saunter. I look around the corner again to the woman at the bar, her shoulders are shaking as her head goes down to the bar top. 

With my hand, I silently motion to the boys to follow me. Something about this woman tells me that she is connected to the person I’m assigned to. We make our way quietly over to Regina who is now sobbing. Gently, I lay my hand on her shoulder, which causes her to jerk violently away from me and out of her chair. 

“Who are you?” she asks suddenly, her face covered in tear trails. Then realizing that I might be someone else she clears her throat and pulls at the bottom of her Led Zeppelin shirt. “Sorry, what can I do for you?”

“It’s more about what I can do for you,” I start to say and then correct myself as I point to the two men behind me. “I mean, we.”

“Excuse me?” she says confused. “Uh… we’re closed…”

“We didn’t come here to drink,” I tell her as I look at the impressive selection of spirits. “Though I wouldn’t be averse to paying for something right now…” Looking back at her I smile. “I come from a group of people that are in charge of making sure that stories go as they should. It, no doubt, sounds like total bullshit…”

“Wait,” Regina says with a look of recognition. “What? Like with the author?”

“...Sorry? Author?” I ask with confusion.

“Henry, he’s the author in our world.”

My eyes narrow in thought as I think this over.

“Pardon me,” I reply, holding up my index finger. “I think I’ve got some ideas to find common ground. Did that snarky hot mess, Drizella, call you the ‘Evil Queen’? As in Snow White and the Seven Dwarves?”

She nods and then throws her hands up defensively.

“Yes,  _ but _ I’ve changed and I’m a good guy now. Snow and I are very good friends. Her daughter and I share a son.”

My eyebrows knit together in confusion at such a concept.

“I truly do not understand what is being said,” John mutters behind me.

Regina’s eyes go to him then widen in shock. 

“Okay, well…” I murmur bringing her attention back to me. “I can see why this story needs us here. Retelling of classics always upsets things,” I mutter the last sentence. “Now you said someone named, Henry, was an author. Some questions, who is Henry? And why did you say his occupation as if it were truly significant? Also, is this a modern telling of Snow White and Seven Dwarves?”

“Henry is my son.”

“The one you share with Snow White’s daughter.”

“Yes,” Regina nods. “And the Author is the one who writes down all the fairy tales so that they can be told. And I’m from the Enchanted Forest, some of us are stuck here in Seattle under… yet another curse.”

“Ahh!!” I smile and clap my hands. “Okay! Now the picture is painted. Allow me to explain my job then. What I do is outside of your reality. There are many, many stories, not just fairy tales that are told. It is my job to make sure that they stay pure where it is most important. I come through a portal to a story, find the person or group of people on which the point hinges. This fixed moment in the story must be maintained for the story not to become something else entirely different. That is my job.”

“I see,” Regina says with a nod. “That’s a tough gig… and these guys are your assistants?”

“Ah… Well, that’s complicated,” I reply, looking back at them. “Ethan Chandler and John Clare,” I indicate each. “They aren’t actually supposed to be here. They are from another story altogether. Um… John is, forgive me, sweetie, he’s Frankenstein's ‘monster’. And Ethan is the wolf-man. For some reason, my door sent them to me…”

“Oh, well I’ve met another version of Frankenstein’s monster,” Regina says with a nod to him. “You seem a lot more stable than him… I’ve yet to have the pleasure of meeting the wolf-man. A woman who was a werewolf, but that’s it.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” replies John. 

“How do you do, ma’am?” Ethan replies in his usual drawl as he sticks his hand out to her.

She smiles and nods as she shakes his hand then Johns without hesitation. 

“John is kind, helpful, and strong,” I assure her. “Ethan is an amazing shot with guns and defense.”

“I’m glad you guys are here, actually,” Regina tells us. “We could use all the help we can get.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” I tell her. “A lot of people don’t like the idea that they are stories. They try to…”

There’s a low rattle somewhere behind us then. Regina looks to her front door. 

“Is someone trying to get in?” she murmurs as she starts to walk to it. Then to me, following her, “I’m more than happy to have someone help me fix this mess. We’re all just stories, in the end, it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“I agree,” I reply pleased.

The rattle turns into banging.

“Someone wants in…” says Ethan.

“It’s probably some late night drunks trying to get one last beer,” Regina tells us as she gets to her door and opens it. “Hey, we’re closed.” 

There’s no one there but the banging still continues, though now it is behind us. Coming from the alcove where my door is. I look at my forearm when a warning beep comes from it and see that there is just now some warning flashing.

[Intrusion! Future at door.]

“What?!” I whisper.

Looking back up I race around the guys to my door. They and Regina follow closely. As I pass the spiral staircase I stop short and stare wide eyed at the floor in front of my door. There is a puddle of black ooze coming out from underneath it. 

“What the hell is that stuff? Is that your door? I’ve never seen that here before,” Regina fires off questions rapidly.

“Yes,” I breathe in a slight panic. “That’s how we got here, it’s how I travel from story to story. I have no idea what that crap is…”

Bending down she goes to touch it.

“No!” I shout and grab her hand. “You have no idea where that came from any more than I do. It could be acid or… Oh, da’ hell?”

I pull her back quickly as nasty, grimy, skeletal fingers, push up under the door. The banging stops suddenly. The fingers grip the bottom of the door, flesh missing in some spots exposing rotting meat and white bone. Tattered and dirty nails scratch at the paneling, making a screeching, scratching sound.

“What is…” Regina starts in horror.

Pushing her back towards Ethan and John, I glare at the hand angrily. Throwing my foot back I kick at the fingers. A shriek comes from under the door and the fingers pull back quickly. The banging starts up again. Rearing back I slam my boot against the door twice.

“Get the fuck away from my door!” I shout down at the puddle. 

It goes quiet and the black ooze stops pushing out toward us. Still glaring at my door I bend down and touch the puddle with a finger. Bringing up some of it to my nose I take a whiff. There's a hint of sour decay and something from behind the veil. I look at it with wide eyes.

“I’ve never seen ectoplasm this color before,” I muse.

“What is ectoplasm,” asks John.

“In stories, it comes from supernatural sources,” I reply. “Typically ghosts.”

“Those fingers looked like something from a horror film,” says Regina with a shudder. “Do you have to take care of those kinds of stories?”

“No,” I reply with a firm shake of my head. “Pure horror holds no value for the soul and heart. It only serves to make adrenaline rise and psychologically ‘thrill’ people. Horror for the sake of horror does not get touched by a Traveler.”

“Traveler?” she asks.

“Me,” I reply. “I’m a Traveler.” I stand up then and look at Ethan and John. “My communication device was slow in telling me this was happening. It wasn’t until after the banging started that it told me there was an intrusion. What’s worse is that it said the intrusion was from the future.”

“What does that mean?” Ethan asks me.

“I don’t know for sure. It’s literally never happened before. But if I were to take a stab at it, I’d say that that is a future mission and it’s trying to get through.”

“Is it possible that it’s calling to you?” Regina asks.

My eyebrows rise in surprise at the idea.

“...I don’t know,” I reply slowly. “It can’t be ruled out though. Listen, someone you’re connected to has been assigned to me, I will be helping this story. But I have to deal with this or it could keep happening.”

“There was that one story that tried to come through when we were in Japan,” John reminds me. “Should we not contact Gersham?”

“Yes,” I agree.

Moving my wrist screen in front of me, I dial Gersham’s number. 

“LAVINIA!” shouts Gersham in a panic. “What the hell is going on with your door? I’ve got alarms ringing all over the warehouse.”

“We’ve got black ectoplasm on the floor and dead fingers coming up from under the door. My communication device is telling me there's an 'Intrusion, Future,’ at the door. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on!”

“What does that even mean?!” shouts Gersham. “No door gets an intrusion and what is the future doing at your door? It doesn’t come to you, you come to it!”

“Those are the questions I’m asking too,” I assure him. 

“But it doesn’t say that on my end,” he tells me. “It says that you have a new mission waiting.”

“We’re at it,” I tell him, holding my hand out to indicate the bar. “We left Feudal Era Japan and arrived in Seattle…” turning to Regina I ask, “What’s the year?”

“2018,” she replies.

“Did you get that?” I ask.

“Yeah…” he replies. 

“I’m standing next to a reformed Evil Queen from Snow White,” I tell him. “And this time Ethan and John came through with me.”

“The system says there is an error,” he tells me, the sound of keys clacking in the background. “It says the door should be in Lebanon, Kansas, and… What? Uh... you should be in Grand Junction, Colorado. That’s not possible!”

“See!” I cry in vindication. “I told you it was spitting me out in random spots.”

“What in the wide world of sports is going on?” Gersham whispers. 

“You tell me,” I say again. “What do we do now?”

“...Well, uh…” Gersham starts then sighs. “The clock is running for you to get to the next story. You need to take care of that or face a hearing about missing an assignment. We don’t have enough information to bring to them yet...”

“And they won’t play nicely unless we do,” I mutter between clenched teeth. “Alright, I’ll head to the next one. But what about this one?”

“I’m not sure,” he tells me. “Hopefully it will freeze until you come back. Like putting a bookmark in.”

“Hopefully…” I murmur. 

“What would happen if it doesn’t freeze for you?” Regina asks.

“Then the fixed event might happen without me being there to ensure that it goes correctly,” I tell her.

“What happens if that does?” Ethan asks.

“Then I end up being dragged to the Citadel to stand trial for failure to perform my mission correctly,” I reply. 

“It happens to other people,” Gersham’s voice adds over my com. “But Lavinia has never had to go in for something like  _ that _ .”

“That sounds really bad,” Regina says.

“It isn’t great,” I reply with a nod. “And they already don’t like me.”

“Why?” John asks, suddenly defensive.

“Because I buck the system and I refuse to conform to the mindless role they want me to take on.”

“In other words,” Gersham says. “Lavinia is too emotional for them and won’t stop being so.”

We all go silent, the air thick with tension.

“...What are you going to do?” Regina asks after some time.

I look down at the black ectoplasm in thought then I nod.

Turning fully to Regina I tell her, “Regardless of how this story turns out, I can’t let nasty ghosts and God knows what else come through from somewhere else. This place will be harmed. 

“Alright, what you need to do is get some salt first, sprinkle it over the ectoplasm, then get some bleach and clean the hell out of it. Afterward, put a line of salt in front of the doorway. I have to go through and figure out what is so important that it would try to come through before it’s time. Keep fighting for what you feel needs to happen and we will do our best to return as quickly as we can. Hopefully, your story will freeze for us and we will return just after we leave.”

“I think that’s the best course of action,” Gersham says from my communication device. “I will put everything else aside and focus purely on your door.”

“Thank you, Gersham. Please work quickly,” I tell him

“You bet, good luck!”

The line goes quiet when he hangs up. Looking at Ethan and John I nod.

“Alright let’s go,” I tell them.

“Right behind you,” says Ethan just as John says, “At your leave.”

Grabbing the flower knob once again I turn it and pull the door open. Walking through first, I feel the nothing surround me before I am slammed into a roof, through an attic, and into the wooden flooring of a second floor landing.

Things are broken. Lots of things.

My neck has been snapped, my skull is no doubt caved in, both legs are broken in several spots, my spine has been compacted. I think my left arm has been mostly severed. I hear screaming and shouting as my ears quickly heal up. My head is growing back, I feel it. Everything is healing at such a strangely fast rate!

_ What is happening?! _

The sound of doors slamming and things crashing is so loud. Voices are whispering in frantic echoing cries.

“Where is the doctor?!”

“Doctor?!”

“Where is he?!”

My neck snaps back into place then and my vision follows shortly after that. 

“If they’re ghosts how come we can’t see them?” asks the husky, smokey voice of a man above me somewhere.

“Maybe they aren’t strong enough to pierce the veil,” replies another voice, it’s more baritone and musical. 

“Yeah, but they’re strong enough to kill us?!” snaps the first. 

Quickly my legs are healing, my arm is reattaching, my spine is healing at an amazingly fast rate and I know soon I’ll be able to stand. Looking toward the voices I see two men running down a flight of stairs to the landing I’m on. I feel the quickening then, but know it’s not complete. The house we are in is old, covered in dust and cobwebs. There is a gorgeous stained glass window to my left, looking over the banister of the landing. 

“Those bodies have got to be buried in the house somewhere… what the hell?” asks the shorter of the two when they get to me. 

I look up at them briefly then around at the crater my body made when it slammed into the landing. Splintered wood and parts of the roof are under and on me.

“Who are you?” asks the taller one, the one with the baritone voice.

“Are you a ghost?” asks the shorter one.

“Nope,” I reply casually. “I’m very much alive. Give me a moment and I’ll shake your hand.”

“Are you… did you fall through the ceiling?!” asks the taller man as he looks up.

“Roof, attic, ceiling, and then I landed on the, uh… well the landing,” I reply. There are a series of loud pops from my spine and I smile. “Ah! There we go.”

The shorter one pulls out a flask, opens it, and throws the wet contents at me.

“What the hell?” I look up at him in disbelief. “Were you never taught manners?”

“She’s not a demon…” he says to the taller one.

“Some folks would consider that a matter of opinion when it comes to me…” I mutter. 

I roll myself out of the crater over to the banister. Using it to pull myself up to a sitting position I wait for the splintered bones in my legs to come back together. It doesn’t take much time. 

“That’s not possible,” mutters the taller one. 

“We don’t have time for this!” shouts the shorter one. “We have to find out where the bodies are buried and obviously she’s fine.”

Setting down the bag on his back, the shorter one starts digging through it, flashing me looks of curiosity, the whispers continue calling and crying out. There is a sound of walls and floors rattling, furniture crashing to the ground. The shorter man pulls out a metal case only slightly larger than one for glasses and opens the lid. Inside are two syringes. Holding one up he looks at the other man.

“I’m gonna ask them, one stops the heart, the other one starts it back up,” he says, holding each up in turn.

The taller man shakes his head as he says, “No. No, no, no, no!”

“Look, we can’t talk to them on this side of the veil. So, I’m going to go to the other side and work my way through all these Caspers until we find out where this freak hid the bodies.”

“Dean, you’re talking about killing yourself.”

“Yeah, well it worked before,” the shorter man, Dean says apathetically. 

“That’s an insane risk to take.”

“Listen, I need three minutes.”

“D-Don’t even… Dean!”

Dean jams the needling into his chest and pushes the plunger down. He blinks a couple of times while the taller man calls his name then he falls over and starts to convulse on the ground. The taller man comes to his side, touching his shoulder. Dean makes a few small gasps and then goes still.

“Damnit,” says the taller one as he looks at his watch and sets a timer.

“Hmm…” I muse as I look at the dead man. “I understand things are a little tense, but could you take a moment and explain what’s going on? Oh, and have you seen two other men wandering around? Or noticed a door that just popped out of nowhere?”

“Two other men?” the tall man asks as he dives into his bag for something.

“Yes, my companions, they should be around here somewhere…” I mutter as I look over my shoulder through the rungs of the banister to the first floor. 

“We’re the only ones here,” he tells me in a hurried tone as he pulls out a canister of salt. “Alive, that is.”

“Ah,” I reply. “So, that’s where the ectoplasm came from… And you are?”

Quickly he pours a line of salt around the shorter man’s body.

“I’m Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean,” he tells me.

“I see. And you aren’t incredibly concerned that your brother just killed himself?”

Sam gives me an apologetic shrug before he glances at his watch. 

“It’s really not the first time,” he tells me.

“Huh…” I reply with a nod.

_ I guess that’s some comfort... _

Singularly, neither of these men is my charge. But I can feel that they are important. I’ll have to tag along. Right now I need to go look for Ethan and John.

“Who are you, by the way? How did you survive falling through the house?” Sam says as he looks up at the huge hole in the ceiling then down to the crater on the landing. “And, uh,  _ why _ did you fall through?”

“That is an interesting story,” I reply as I stand up and dust off my already dirty clothes. “One I will happily tell you  _ after _ I go look for my friends.”

“What?” he looks at me startled. “Wait! No, you really don’t want to do that. There are ghosts in this house and they will try to kill you!”

“How thoughtful of them,” I muse with a sarcastic smile. “I’ll be fine. My friends, however, might have a hard time all on their own. Shoot up a flare if you need me to come back.”

“W-What?! No!” he stutters at me as I start to go up the stairs to the next floor.

“Take care of your brother, I’ll be right back.”

Lightning strikes outside, the windows light up. The noises of ghosts moving things and calling out are softer now, but still there. A dead potted plant goes flying towards my head and I move aside to avoid it. I go down a series of hallways, checking each room as I go. Once I’ve checked the whole upstairs I return back to the landing to find Sam shaking his brother and calling his name loudly. 

“Hey! Hey! Wake up, Dean. Wake up!” Sam shouts as he smacks his brother’s face and shakes him.

“Did you give him the other syringe?” I ask as I come down the stairs.

“Yeah, but it’s not working,” he replies in a panic.

“Have you done CPR?” 

I sit on my shins next to Dean.

“No.”

“Well, let’s give it a go, shall we?” I ask as I reposition the man on the ground. Then add, “Huh, did you notice the house has gone quiet?”

“Wha… Uh, yeah. You’re right.”

I smile at him before I pinch Dean’s nose and push my mouth against his. I push air into his lungs while Sam does chest compressions. We do this a couple of times then I check for a pulse. As I touch his neck Dean suddenly springs forward, inhaling sharply. He gives a series of coughs as Sam grabs his shoulders.

“Hey! You’re okay!” Sam tells him.

“Yeah…” replies Dean, rubbing his chest.

I watch them as they both breathe heavily in what feels like relief. 

“Welcome back,” I say with a small smile. “If you’ll stay here and recover, I’m going to search the rest of the house.”

“Search... for what?” Dean asks while gulping for air.

“I’m looking for my friends,” I reply as I get up. “We’ll talk when I get back.”

“What…” Dean starts.

“Let her go,” Sam says as I walk down to the main floor. “We need to call the police.”

I leave them to do as they please and check every room, every hallway, every nook, and cranny. Outside I call for Ethan and John as I take a turn around the house. Nothing but wind, crickets, and silence answer me back. Strangely, there is no more lightning or rain. Finally, I go back inside to the brothers. They have made their way to the foyer now. Sam is on his phone talking to what sounds like the police. He hangs up just as I come to stand a short distance away.

“They’re on their way,” Sam tells Dean.

“Good,” he replies then he turns to me, “Now, mind explaining to us what the hell you’re doing here?”

“You’re a grumpy thing, aren’t you?” I muse as I tilt my head and look at him.

His face is attractive, with a strong jaw. His nose is crooked, obviously, it’s been broken. The features of his face are proportional and appealing. Thicker lips, round greenish eyes, two-day-old scruff on his chin and cheeks. The thick brown hair on his head is short and messy. However, it’s the lines on his face, the ones around his eyes and on his forehead that tell me who this man is. This man has seen a lot and been through too much. His face looks exactly how I feel on the inside, tired, and ready for everything to end. 

The other one, Sam, still has a kindness to his light hazel eyes. He has obviously seen a lot too, the same wrinkles are on his forehead and around his eyes. There is scruff on his face too. While his brother has short hair, this one has long hair that almost reaches his shoulders. He doesn’t seem to share Dean’s hopelessness. 

“You said you’d tell us later,” Sam reminds me in a kind voice.

“I did,” I agree. “My name is Lavinia and I’m called a Traveler.”

“Lavinia? No last name, like Cher?” Dean asks me skeptically.

“What’s the point of having a last name when I don’t have a family for you to connect me to?” I reply.

Dean gives me an odd look.

“What do you mean, Traveler?” Sam asks.

“It’s a poor title for what I actually do, admittedly. I was not consulted about titles… Anyway, what I do is step into a story, find the person or people who I’ve been put in charge of and then I make sure that they get to a certain point in their story without incident. Every story has fixed moments that must be reached and remain pure,” I tell them.

“You’re saying that we’re just some story for people to read? Like the crap that Chuck did?” Dean asks angrily.

“I have no idea who Chuck is,” I reply, pointing my finger at him briefly. “And I have no idea if your story is in book form or visual form. The point is that everyone’s life is a story in the end and sometimes there are things that need to happen and they require help to ensure that they do.”

“What a load of bullshit,” Dean spits angrily.

“Dean,” Sam says warningly. “So, you’re here to help us with something? What is it?”

“I’m not sure it’s you,” I reply. “It could be someone you’re attached to or it could be that you two are part of a group. As for what the fixed moment is, I have no idea. That will present itself eventually.”

“That’s pretty vague, don’t you think?” Dean asks.

“To you, it would seem that way,” I reply with a nod. “But I’ve been doing this for a long time and I’m used to the process.”

He rolls his eyes. The sound of police sirens in the distance comes in through the open door then and we look out to the flashing red and blue lights. 

“I’ll go talk to them,” Dean says with depressed resignation as he heads out.

I watch him walk out to the front lawn.

“Hey,” Sam calls to me. I look back at him. “You didn’t find your friends, right?”

“Right.”

“Have you called them?”

“They don’t have any communication devices. They’re from Victorian London, they don’t even know what a phone is,” I reply with a smile. “Don’t worry, we found each other pretty quick last time.”

“You mentioned earlier something about a door?” Sam asks as we step aside for the police and Dean to come in. 

“Yes. The door is how I got here, but it’s malfunctioning right now. I was actually assigned to another story before I came to yours. I’m pretty sure I was supposed to come here next after the other one had been resolved. But black ectoplasm came out from under my door along with some nasty dead fingers. Then I got an alert on my communication device and realized I needed to come here first.”

“Is that normal? Other stories trying to come through?”

“Absolutely not,” I reply with a shake of my head. “In fact, my I.T. guy, Gersham, says he’s never heard of something like this happening before.”

“Is this… uh, traveling thing a new organization?”

“Nope.”

“Huh… okay. Where is your door?”

“Gersham said that it was somewhere in Lebanon, Kansas. Does that place hold any significance to you?”

“Actually, that’s kind of where our headquarters is,” Sam says with a look of shock.

“Makes sense,” I muse softly. “There’s something special about you and your brother. Will you allow me to come with you two to Lebanon?”

“Dean might take some convincing, but if you can really help us…” he sighs then and shakes his head. “We could use all the help we can get.”

“What if she’s an angel or some other monster?” Dean says to his brother as he walks up to us then.

Dean eyes me suspiciously. 

He shoos us outside as Sam replies, “We can test her, but I don’t think we have anything to be concerned about.”

“Oh yeah? Is your gut telling you that, Sam?”

“You can do whatever you need to,” I tell them nonchalantly. 

We walk a ways from the front of the dilapidated house, out of the way of several coroner’s vans, police vehicles, and a couple of civilian ones. Sam nods to me before he sees a woman with short black hair walking closer to the house. She looks tired and scared.

“Uh, I’ll be right back,” he tells us before he goes over to her. 

I watch him curiously as he talks to her, her face is blotchy from crying. She wraps her arms around herself and nods as she listens to Sam. 

“That’s the mother of one of the kids that got killed,” Dean tells me softly. “His name was Sean.”

“Ah,” I reply simply. “Killed by what? If I may ask.”

“A psycho doctor’s ghost,” he replies darkly.

“Ew! Gotcha.”

He looks at me appraisingly then.

“You believe me?” he asks.

I chuckle and nod.

“I’ve seen a lot of things,” I tell him. “What you said isn’t a shock to me in the slightest.”

When Sam is done talking he comes over to us with a sad face.

“How did it go?” Dean asks as he leans on the trunk of a classic black muscle car.

“About how you’d figure,” Sam replies as he settles onto the trunk next to his brother. “Hey, what happened back there? The shot didn’t work and all of a sudden you’re back.”

“I don’t know…” Dean replies. It sounds like a lie to me. “I guess it took a minute for the drug to kick in. Guess I got lucky.”

“Lucky?!”

“Yeah.”

Dean starts to walk around the car, eyeballing me as he does.

“Wait. H-Hold on a second. Dean, what about the ghosts? I checked the EMF, they’re all gone. Was that lucky too?”

Dean glances at me again, I give him a little wave.

“We can talk about it later,” he tells Sam under his breath.

“We  _ won’t  _ talk about it later. You know that,” Sam replies with exasperation.

Dean gives me another glance to which I turn slightly and walk around to the front of the car. At a respectful distance, I turn my back to them and allow them a moment. They have no idea that I have exceptional hearing and while I would love to give them privacy, I need to get more information about the situation at hand. I respectfully pretend that I hear nothing.

“...I saw Death,” Dean tells him softly after a long pause. “ _ The _ Death.”

“He’s dead,” Sam replies shakily.

“No. She’s… not,” Dean says. “It’s Billy. She got a new gig. She’s the one who took care of the ghosts.”

“Why would she help us?”

“She wanted intel… She said we’re important and that we’ve got work to do.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Sam hisses with exasperation.

“I don’t know. No freaking clue.”

“...You okay?”

“No. Sam, I’m not okay. I’m pretty far from, okay,” Dean says angrily then pauses. “You know, my whole life, I always believed what we do is important. No matter what the cost. No matter who we lost. Whether it was dad, or Bobby, or… and I would take the hit, but I would keep on fighting because I believed that we were making the world a better place. And now mom and Cas and… and… I don’t know.”

“So… now you don’t believe anymore,” whispers Sam in disbelief.

“I just need a win… I just need a damn win,” Dean replies tiredly. 

I hear him start to walk around the car to the driver’s door, Sam takes a moment before he follows along on the other side of the car.

“Hey,” Dean calls to me out the driver’s side window. “Get in. We’re leaving.”

I turn and nod, glancing at the front of the car I realize that it’s a beautiful Chevy Impala from the sixties. Sam opens the back passenger door then indicates with his hand and a soft, though forced smile, for me to get in. Moving swiftly I do as told while Dean brings the rumbling engine to life. Sam shuts the door once I’m in. Pulling my bags off my back, I lay them on the seat next to me. My rifle I examine once it’s in my lap. The barrel is bent and my scope is crushed.

“Shit,” I whisper to myself.

“What’s the matter?” Sam asks as he turns around to look at me with concern.

Dean puts the car into gear and drives off. 

“My rifle and scope are trash now,” I tell him, holding it up for him to see.

“You even know how to use that thing?” Dean asks, his eyes still on the road. 

I look into the rearview mirror and smile. It catches his eye and he looks at me. 

“I know how to use many weapons,” I reply. Looking back down to my rifle I add, “This poor thing, it and I have done a lot of work together and recently too. I’m a little sad to have to discard it now.”

“Like what? You go hunting rabbits?” he asks with a great amount of snark.

“If you call Feudal Era soldiers, rabbits, then yes.”

“W-What?!” Sam stutters.

“My last mission was in Feudal Era Japan, in the Echigo Province,” I tell him pleasantly. “I had to take care of a girl from the future who had to save the life of Lord Kenshin Uesugi.”

“Who?” Dean asks skeptically.

“That was one of the main warlords of the Sengoku period, right?” Sam asks, ignoring his brother.

“Yes,” I nod, impressed with his knowledge. 

“You're telling me you speak Japanese?” Dean asks.

“I speak many languages,” I tell him.

“Of course you do, I mean someone who has to travel around all over the place would certainly need to know how to use all kinds of weapons and speak several languages…” he rolls his eyes again.

Putting my busted rifle over in the other seat with the barrel pointed at the ceiling I scoot closer to Dean and lean over the front seat slightly, startling him.

“I understand that you are having a hard time right now,” I tell him calmly. “That does not give you any right to take your shit out on someone you don’t even know. Now if you want to talk about your problems, we can do that. If you want to fight them out, pull the car over and we’ll go a couple rounds. If none of those options sound appealing to you, I suggest you stow your shit and be polite.”

As I speak he looks from the road to the rearview mirror and back again. Remaining silent. His attitude seems to shift slightly and he shakes his head.

“I ain’t fighting a woman unless she’s a monster,” he tells me.

I laugh and pat his shoulder once.

“I am,” I reply as I lean back against my seat. “But for now, this monster is going to take a nap. By the way, this is a sexy car, you’ve done a great job with it.”

“Damn right it is,” he replies, letting me know he doesn’t need my confirmation.

He looks over his shoulder at me as I lean back in the seat. Without another word I close my eyes and drift off, the motion of the car on the road lulls me pleasantly to sleep. They don’t speak again either, even after the sun has set. Eventually, Sam drifts off to, his breathing soft and deep.

It’s late in the night when I hear a phone’s trilling ring. Sam stirs and shifts while Dean picks up the phone. I keep my eyes closed.

“Yeah?” Dean asks sharply. 

There’s a muffled, gruff voice that replies. The words are hard to hear with Dean pressing the phone so tightly to his head. The atmosphere in the car shifts and I open my eyes to watch the brothers. Sam looks at Dean with concern and Dean looks back at him in shock.

“What?” Sam asks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any rights to Penny Dreadful, X-Men, Supernatural, or Once Upon a Time.  
> Traveler Lavinia, Gersham, the Citadel, and the Council are mine and should not be reproduced without my permission.

An interesting turn of events happens that first evening with the Winchester brothers. A friend of theirs, apparently an angel, has returned from the grave. We meet him in an alley in some tiny town in Colorado. He’s taller than me but much shorter than the six foot and above brothers. His lips are big though flush against his skin, a five o’clock shadow sits on his cheeks. Blue eyes that seem to look sad and happy at the same time, he reminds me of a confused puppy. His short dark hair haphazardly goes whatever direction it chooses. The feeling he gives off is nice though obviously not human. 

Something about these three men together feels like I’m closer to the group I’m supposed to take care of, but we’re still missing at least one other person.

The reunion of these three men is sweet and grateful. I remain next to the car, out of the way. With long hugs over, this angel, Castiel, tells us about where he was. It seems that in this world, angels can die, and when they do they go to the nothing that was there before God made creation. That is where angels and demons go when they die here. It seems that Castiel annoyed an ancient cosmic being so much that it sent him back to life on Earth. I find that I like this about him and I smile. 

Originally, he says, he was sleeping. But then he heard a voice call his name and he woke up. He seems to have thought the brothers made a deal of some sort. They assure him that they didn’t.

“Then who was it? Chuck, uh, God?” Sam asks.

_ Chuck again? Their God is named Chuck? _

“No,” Castiel replies. “He has no power in the nothing.”

“Well, then who does?” Dean asks.

“What a pathetic god…” I murmur softly to myself.

They go quiet for a moment, in thought.

“...Jack!” Sam says with a jolt. 

The other two look at him confused.

“You think?” Dean asks.

“Um,” I say, finally stepping closer and raising my hand. “Who is Jack?”

“He’s the son of Lucifer and a human woman, Kelly Kline,” Sam tells me.

My mouth drops open.

“...Well, naturally. What else would you name a Nephilim…” I reply once I regain my composure. 

“It was his mother’s choice,” Castiel tells me. “Who are you?”

“I’m Lavinia,” I tell him with a wave. “I’m here to help.”

“She’s from another world,” Sam tells Castiel.

“Like the one that Jack opened?” Castiel asks.

I raise a questioning eyebrow at Sam.

“I don’t think so,” Sam replies softly. Then to me, “Jack opened a rift that led to another Earth when he was born.” 

“Ah!” I reply with understanding. “My situation is not exactly like that. Simply put, I exist outside of your multiverse.”

“You’re from another one altogether,” Castiel clarifies.

“Yes,” I agree. “I work purely in stories told by other people. I’ve taken care of superheroes, Japanese yokai from the fifteen-hundreds, sailed with pirates in the Caribbean, Samurai and Ninjas, Fairy Tales, and so on.”

“You mean someone is telling our story, right now?” Dean asks, growing irritable. “As in they are making all this horrible shit happen on purpose?”

“They are telling a story to convey a message to others, you just so happen to be the characters subjected to the experience,” I answer.

“That’s not okay!” Dean barks at me.

“I understand how you feel,” I tell him calmly.

“I don’t want to hear about how you understand,” he snaps. “This is our life and it could have gone another way, it could have been better!”

“Yes,” I agree. “It could have. Your frustration is completely rational…”

“Shut up and make it stop!” he interrupts me.

“I didn’t say I was the writer of the story,” I reply sternly. “I said I’m the one who protects it. I have no control over anything else.”

“What bullshit!” Dean spits and gets closer to me.

“Dean!” Sam calls loudly as Dean gets in my face.

“You have no idea what this shit feels like, knowing that we are some toys for entertainment,” he hisses at me.

I’m unphased by his closeness and it seems to irritate him.

“Huh…” I reply apathetically after a moment of tense silence. “Don’t I? I’ve been doing this for damn near three-hundred years. I don’t get to take a break in between missions. I have to go from one horrible tragedy to another, trying to pick up the pieces of broken lives so that they can keep going. You think you have it so bad? I don’t have a home, I don’t have people I can run to when things get to be too much. I have to deal with it all on my own. There is no one that I can share my load with.

“I have been experimented on," I hold up a finger. "Abused." Another finger. "Neglected." Another. "And every other horrible thing that you can imagine." I wave my hand in the air, fingers splayed wide. "All while the people above me sit on their asses and let it happen, offering no comfort or support. They simply tell me to keep going and punish me when they don’t like how I do things. Tell me again how hard your life is. Because I’ll tell you to suck it up, buttercup, and join the damn club.” Turning away, I head back to the car. Before I get in, with a neutral expression I say, “I haven’t eaten in over twenty hours, let's go.”

Nothing more is said as they follow along and get in. We stop at a drive-thru where we order burgers before we get back onto the road. Several hours later and we arrive at a wooded area. Off a ways, in the early morning light, I see what looks like a high dyke with a building on top of it. A small set of stairs goes down to a metal door set in a brick wall in the lower part of the hill, beneath the building. Grabbing my bags, Kanehisa’s sword, and busted rifle, I step out of the silent car. As I shut the door the wind picks up and slams into me hard. 

The almost forgotten smell and feeling of Kansas wind. It gives me goosebumps. I close my eyes and put my arms out to feel the strong wind, like a heavy tide slamming into me again. A smile comes to my lips, turning itself into a grin. The giggle that comes from me is uncontrollable, not that I mind. 

“What is it, Lavinia?” I hear Sam ask with a smile in his tone.

“I haven’t been in Kansas, in any version of it, since I was thirty,” I tell him as I slowly open my eyes. “I’ve missed the wind so much.”

“Are you… from Kansas?” he asks with surprise.

“I was born in Wichita,” I tell him.

“Really?” Dean asks, surprised. 

I nod still smiling while the wind seems to play with my curls joyfully.

“Nineteen eighty-eight,” I tell them. “There was a blizzard.”

“It’s two-thousand eighteen,” Sam tells me. “You’re thirty right now.”

“No,” I shake my head, open my eyes, and walk over to him. “I look thirty because that’s when I was taken away from my family and home to join the Travelers. My first mission was when I was experimented on. Genetic modification has given me a healing factor that is exponentially faster than any humans.”

“That’s how you were able to get up and walk around after falling through several floors of that house,” says Dean with an ‘ah-ha’ tone. 

“Precisely,” I reply with a nod. “If you had seen me only a couple minutes earlier the other day you would have seen how my head was caved in and my neck was snapped. My spine was busted, an arm was barely still attached and my legs were shattered. I must have either fallen from a great height or was thrown with great force.”

“Sounds like we’ve got a female Deadpool,” Dean says with amusement at his own joke.

I smile and nod, “Actually he’s the one who got me out of experimentation and trained me in weapons and martial arts.”

Dean’s mouth drops open. 

“You’re full of shit,” he accuses.

“Nope,” I reply with a smile. “Wade was a great friend and mentor.”

“You met Deadpool?!” Dean says with a grin.

“You were in a comic book?” asks Sam. 

I nod. 

“So, you went from hanging out with  _ the _ Deadpool to barreling through that house’s roof?” Dean asks. “And surviving…”

“How is that possible?” Sam asks.

“Do you mean my healing ability or my being thrown through the house?”

“The last one,” Dean answers.

“I’m not sure,” I reply. “It’s not supposed to be like that. But for me, that isn’t the first time the door has sent me flying or dropped me off somewhere away from it. I’m supposed to walk through it and have it at my back when I get to the new mission. But it hasn’t done that properly for a while, except for when I arrived at the story I had to leave for this one.” 

“Maybe we can find something…” Sam starts.

“Thank you for the offer,” I cut him off, waving my hands in front of me. “But this is way out of your world's league. There are no books or databases in this world that would have any information about my door or the Travelers.”

“She’s right,” Castiel chimes in. “I’ve never heard of such a person or situation like this happening.”

“Gersham is working on it right now,” I tell them. “Leave it to my I.T. guy. He’s wicked smart. Let’s get you guys taken care of in the meantime.”

Dean gives me a funny look before he nods quickly and walks toward the door set in the hill. We pass through several heavy-duty doors before we enter a high ceilinged control room below where we stand on a metal catwalk and stairs leading down. The equipment is older, with a nineteen-fifties feel to the design. 

There are several passageways from this control room, I note when we descend the stairs. A large archway directly across from where the door we just came through is, reveals a lovely library and study beyond. Pentagrams and other strange symbols I don’t recognize decorate everything from the floors to the walls and architecture. Just inside the library is a young boy, maybe late teens with blond hair, sitting at a table, looking at a laptop screen.

Sam and Dean go into the room before Castiel and me. With a motion of his hand, Dean tells us to wait in the control room.

“How did it go?” asks the boy, not looking up.

“Well…” Dean says.

“Jack, uh… some things have happened,” Sam says.

“What’s wrong?” Jack asks suddenly concerned.

That’s when Dean looks back at Castiel who comes into the room ahead of me.

“Hello, Jack,” Castiel tells him.

“Castiel?” Jack says with wide eyes. “How? We burned your body. And what gets burned stays dead.”

“That’s the question we’ve been asking,” Dean tells him.

“Jack…” Sam calls softly. “Did you… bring Cass back?”

“...I don’t know,” the boy replies slowly, thinking. “I wanted him to come back. I begged for him to. But…”

“Well, here he is,” Dean tells him with a smile, holding his arms out as if showing off the angel.

“Because of me?” Jack asks.

“We don’t know,” Sam replies. “We don’t know, Jack. But maybe.”

“Thank you, Jack,” Castiel tells him warmly.

“I missed you so much!” Jack says as he practically leaps into Castiel’s embrace. 

No hesitation on either party as they wrap their arms around each other. I smile. That’s when Jack seems to see me as he looks over Castiel’s shoulder.

“Who are you?” he asks curiously.

“Hi!” I say with a smile and wave. “I’m Lavinia, you can shorten that however, you like. I’m here to help…”

Looking at them all together I feel the quickening in my stomach. It’s them as a group, not just one person. 

“Of course,” I murmur and nod. “It’s all four of you I’m here to take care of.”

“What?” Sam asks startled. “How do you know?”

“I felt the quickening when I saw all four of you together just now,” I reply, indicating all of them with my finger. “That’s how I always know. Well! That’s a load off my mind. Say, sweetie,” I look back at Jack who has now separated from Castiel, “you haven’t by any chance seen two men wandering around here have you? One’s about as tall as Sam, looks like a cowboy… well, he is actually. And the other has pale blue-ish skin, gold eyes, and quite a lot of scars on his face.”

He shakes his head.

“No, I haven’t seen anyone like that. It’s been just me,” he replies. “Do people usually shorten your name?”

“Sometimes,” I reply with a shrug. “Usually I get called Vinnie, but there was a time I was called Vinia. That was fun.”

“Blue-ish skin?” asks Dean skeptically as I walk up a couple of stone steps into the library.

“Yes,” I nod with a sigh. “He’s Victor Frankenstein's first creation. Poor John Clare, he’s a sweetheart, really. But he’s been terribly abused. Victorian London is not kind to people that look different. The cowboy is Ethan Chandler, he’s the wolf-man. Great shot with a gun, speaks Apache and happens to be the lupus dei in his story.”

“Wolf of God?” Sam asks.

“You speak Latin!” I say with a smile. “Yes. That story was a bit of a nightmare, witches, vampires, Lucifer and his brother…”

“You’ve met Lucifer?” asks Dean, perking up at this.

“Well, that version of him.”

“His brother, do you mean Michael?” Castiel asks.

“No, Michael never showed up,” I reply, thinking about that fact. “This brother was Dracula and he was an asshole.”

“Well, I mean,” laughs Dean sarcastically. “Come on, it’s Dracula.”

“Sounds like you were in a mash-up with a bunch of old horror films,” says Sam.

“Pretty much, only it was way worse than any of those…” I nod sadly, thinking of Vanessa. “We lost someone who… had been hunted all her life by those two bastards… I… need to go look for my door, I can feel it here.”

I bow my head quickly and walk away. 

“Lavinia?” Sam calls after me.

I just wave my hand to let him know I’m fine. There isn’t any point in rehashing things. She’s gone and now I’ve got to find my boys to make sure they are alright. After searching hallways and rooms for quite some time, I make my way back to the library to find the men surrounding Jack and his computer. He looks up at me and smiles such a sweet childlike smile.

“We have a hunter’s case!” he tells me with glee.

“Oh?” I reply with a kind smile. “What are we going to be hunting?”

“Zombies! I know what zombies are,” he tells me proudly.

“Hmm! What kind of zombies are we talking about?”

“The… kind that eat… people?” he replies in confusion.

“Ah! Sorry, I suppose that would be an odd question,” I reply apologetically. “I’ve met several versions. Some don’t care about eating people, they just want to kill to increase their numbers. Those are annoying. Some are picky and just want brains.”

I get an odd look from everyone.

“...uh, yeah. Jack what makes you think it’s zombies?” asks Dean, looking from me to the boy.

“Three days ago a vintage pocket watch was sold at a pawn shop. When it was sent to be authenticated it was found that it had been buried with its owner,  _ twenty years ago _ ! When they went to look in the grave, the body was missing. Which means, the dead are rising in Dodge City, Kansas.”

My lip curls up involuntarily in disgust while Dean’s face seems to brighten at the prospect.

“Eww,” I murmur. “Dodge City…”

“Right…” Sam says looking at Jack. “Or maybe it was a grave robbery.”

“...Oh,” replies Jack with disappointment.

“Maybe we should check it anyway,” says Dean with a concealed tone.

“Really?!” Jack asks.

“Yeah, we’ve done more on less. Besides, Dodge City is kind of awesome…” Dean says whimsically. I roll my eyes as he continues, “Alright! Well, two salty hunters, a half-angel kid, a dude that just came back from the dead, again, and some chick who's sounding more and more like a wild card. Team Free Will two point oh. Here we go!”

“Ooh! I like being called a wild card,” I grin. 

Dean winks at me as he starts to come around the table to leave the library. I look past where he’d been standing to an alcove with a huge telescope in it. That’s when I see my all too familiar door.

“Ah!” I cry out with happiness. Everyone jumps. “There you are! Why the hell are you hiding in there?!”

I move quickly to the alcove. It’s a tight fit, the door won’t be able to open all the way like it usually does. I touch it and inspect it carefully. Setting my things down on the ground I get down on hands and knees and inspect the bottom of the door. The black goo is gone as if someone has cleaned it. I send a silent thanks to Regina. They all come closer to see.

“This is it?” Sam asks me when I stand.

“Yes, this is my door.”

“You have a door?” Jack asks.

“It’s how I traveled to your world,” I tell him, still looking at it.

“Can it travel to other worlds?” he asks.

“Yes, but I have no control over that.”

“...Oh,” he replies sadly.

“Was there somewhere you were wanting to go?” I ask as I look at him finally.

“Well, Dean and Sam’s mom is stuck in another world and I was hoping you could help them with that.”

“Maybe I can help you in another way to make that happen,” I say thoughtfully. “Maybe that’s my mission with you guys. We’ll see. For now, I need to get into my closet.”

“You’re closet?” Dean asks.

I nod, grab the flower knob, and think of my closet. The knob makes a click and I turn it, pulling it open. A well lit room is beyond, filled with racks of weapons, and shelves of ammunition for them. Bows and full quivers hang from pegs. Rifles suspended from special hangers are next to them. Handguns are suspended on pegs in order of size and type of automatic firing. Another set of shelves is filled to almost bursting with souvenirs. Turning to my duffle bag, I pull the presents I was given by the Nokizaru out along with Kanehisa’s sword, then I grab my rifle and walk in. The others press in at the doorway with great interest.

Going over to a sword rack I gently place the sword in an empty spot, looking at it with affection I touch it one last time before I turn to a barrel of busted guns. Taking the ammunition out of my rifle before I drop it in, I go over to my ammunition shelves and put the rounds with their like kind. Taking my jacket off and hanging it on an empty peg I pull out my pistols, set them aside, and take off my very battered under arm holster. I examine it closely and put it in a pile of things to be mended. Then I turn back to the men.

“This is the sexiest room I have ever seen,” Dean tells me with glittering eyes.

“Thank you,” I reply with a smile. “Now, as I understand it, in this world you have ghosts, angels, demons, and… what else?”

“Why?” Jack asks me.

“So I can equip myself with the proper tools for protection,” I reply. 

“Uh, we’ve got vampires,” Sam tells me.

“Best way to kill them is cutting off their heads,” Dean adds.

I nod. 

“A lot of the monsters can be killed with silver bullets,” Sam goes on.

“A shotgun with salt shot is always a safe bet,” Dean adds.

I nod.

“Probably better stick with the shoulder holsters,” I muse to myself as I grab a new one and put it on.

Putting my pistols into their holders. I walk over to my swords and collect a black sheathed sword with a red and black wrapped handle. As I pass the ammunition, I grab what I need for my pistols and walk out. Shutting the door behind me. The men look down at me and blink in a confused way.

“That’s all you’re going to bring?” Dean asks.

“I don’t really need much more,” I tell him honestly. “If this isn’t enough then not much else in there is going to be of any use.”

“What’s with the sword? Sam asks.

“It’s a special sword that a funny little man who rode a three-eyed cow made for me,” I explain affectionately.

“Why did he make it for you? How is it special?” asks Jack. 

“It’s special because it was made from the horn of a very, very old and powerful Oni that I killed. This blade has very special things it can do, ripping the soul of someone for instance. I once used it to destroy a mansion in a single blow… that was messy. Also, it won’t let anyone else use it. 

“As for why the sword maker gave it to me, it all started when he came upon me bathing in the river. He took quite a shine to me and wanted to marry me. Since that wasn’t a possibility he made this sword and gave it to me.”

I show the other side of the black sheath to him, in gold kanji script is a message from the sword maker to me. 

“He told me it said, ‘With deep love, take Tasuke Mamoru and remember this old man, Totosai.’”

“Is that what it really says?” he asks.

“I have no clue,” I laugh. “I speak Japanese but I can’t read it.”

Castiel looks at it and nods.

“That is, indeed, what it says,” he confirms with his low raspy voice. “This, Totosai, must have admired you greatly to have made such a weapon.”

“I think it was more lust than love,” I say with a chuckle. “But he was more of a gentleman than Miroku. That boy had a thing for my ass that was beyond irritating…”

Dean laughs at this and Sam smirks. 

“Sounds like my kind of guy,” Dean says.

“Heh, heh,” I say sarcastically. “If you two end up being too similar I’ll cut your hand off.”

“Uh…” Sam cuts in with amusement. “How about I show you to a room and where the showers are?”

“Sweet sister!” I smile forgetting about Dean altogether. “I haven’t had a shower in over a year, the best I’ve gotten was a bath in a tub you had to fill one bucket at a time. It was easier to bathe in the river. Lead the way, you wonderful man!”

He seems rather pleased at my compliment and offers me his arm after he grabs up my bag. Taking it, he walks me through the library and down a corridor of doors to one with a bed, a desk, nightstands, and a personal sink. The walls are a dusky, pleasant green, the floor is a beige marble. Then he shows me where the shower room is. There are many showerheads along the seafoam green tiled walls. It is obviously for communal showering. Sam leaves me and shuts the door as he goes. I take my sweet time in the shower. This building is certainly peculiar, I’ll have to ask Sam about it later. When I’m done, dried, and wrapped in a towel I head back to the room I was given with my duffle bag over my shoulder. As I’m about to enter Dean comes down the hall, a beer in his hand. His eyebrow goes up at seeing me. 

“Feel better?” he asks.

“Yes,” I smile, happily. “Thank you.”

“Sure,” he shrugs. “Need anything else?”

“Actually, do you guys have a washer and dryer here?”

“Yep,” he says with a look that suggests he has figured something out. “Been a long time since you could wash your clothes, huh?”

“Yes, I was in Feudal Japan for around three months. And while we washed out clothes by hand it doesn’t beat a good washer and dryer.”

“No doubt,” he agrees. “Hey, if you need a shirt to sleep in…”

He points to his room.

“I’m good, thank you,” I say. “If you could show me to the washer?”

“Yeah,” he nods and holds his hand out to indicate where we are going. As we walk down the corridor Dean says, “So, you must be on the tail end of your laundry then.”

“What do you mean?” 

“At least you got something to sleep in while your clothes go through the wash.”

“Ah,” I say with a smirk. “That would be a no. See, I declined your offer for a shirt because I don’t sleep with clothes on.” Dean, who was about to take a drink from his bottle, splutters into it instead. “It makes it too difficult to feel danger and movement. So, I sleep naked.”

“Wow, you, uh, just came out and said it. Didn’t ya?” he says looking at me with interest.

“There’s hardly any point in my trying to hide it,” I reply simply. “I can’t tell you how many times people have come bursting into the room I’m sleeping in and been shocked at how they found me. This way you can avoid the situation all together. But, truly, I appreciate your offer of a shirt.”

“Yeah, uh, thanks for that... And if you need anything just give a holler,” he tells me with a smirk. “Here’s the laundry room.”

We stop at a closed door, which he opens for me. Inside are several washers and dryers.

“Thank you very much, Dean,” I tell him as I bow my head. “Have a good night.”

“You really did spend time in Japan, huh?” he asks with a smile at my bow. 

I smile and nod, “Yep.”

He chuckles and shakes his head.

“Have a good night, too. We’ll be leaving early tomorrow,” he tells me.

“Alright.”

“By the way, I like your tattoos,” he says as he points to my back.

I look over my shoulder and smile.

“Thank you.”

He leaves me to my task. The sound of running water filling the drum is rather soothing. It reminds me of the river Mana and I had tried to go swimming in before Masato spazzed out. 

_ I hope they are doing okay, even if they didn’t stay together _ .

When everything is dumped in with detergent I shut the lid and head back to my room. As I casually walk, I tap the screen on my forearm and call Gersham. 

“Hellooo!” Gersham says cheerfully and loudly. “Did you make it to Grand Junction, Colorado okay?”

“Sort of,” I reply under my breath. “I was slammed into the roof, through the attic, and made a crater with my body on the landing of a haunted house.”

“...Uhh…” he says slowly. “That’s not fun. At least you got your healing factor going for you!”

“Yes… something’s weird though. I’m healing faster than usual. What would typically take me a day to heal was done in a matter of minutes.”

“That’s very weird, why are you doing that?”

“What the hell kind of question is that?” I snap with exasperation. “Those bastards didn’t give me a manual for this vehicle when I busted out!”

“Right, right… is there anything else?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m stronger than I was two almost deaths ago and then there’s…”

“...There’s what?”

“This is going to sound so absurd,” I say with a heavy sigh. “But I think my canines have gotten longer? Or maybe it’s just in my imagination. And my nails are thicker.”

“Your… teeth have gotten longer? That sounds kind of odd.”

“You’re telling me! I have no idea what’s going on.”

“You mentioned that you noticed it was two deaths ago… Do you suppose that has something to do with it?”

“I can’t imagine how it would, I’ve sort of died several other times in the past and there were no obvious changes like this.”

“Maybe none that you noticed,” he says, his analytical hat obviously on by the tone of his voice. “Perhaps it was all internal, things you wouldn’t notice, a better operating spleen or stronger bones and hair follicles.”

I roll my eyes as I reach my door, then I stop just as I reach for the knob.

“Gersh…” I whisper. “You might be right. My nails have gotten stronger, again. I first noticed it when I was sailing with Sinbad. I thought it was because I was eating enchanted fruit, but I had a sort of death when I was traveling with him. I was smashed by an elephant when a roc attacked. After that my nails were stronger. So much so that I was able to use them to climb the side of Blackbeard's hull.”

“This is amazing! Your genetic modifications seem to be allowing you to evolve!”

“Why are you excited about this?!” I snap. “I was already a freak of science and now I’m getting worse!”

“Uh… Well, um… yes. I suppose it does seem rather bleak to you… Sorry. What I meant was that you are more cool now than before… to me.”

I sigh and rest my head against the door.

“Sorry, Gersham,” I whisper. “I’m just frustrated. The jackasses at the Citadel already don’t like me. They hate that I have this condition. Now they can add one more thing to bump me up on their shit list.”

“...I know,” Gersham whispers. “You’re the best Traveler they have and your ability to never really die makes you ideal. They just hate that you aren’t a mindless worker bee like the others. You argue with them and their policies and you… well, you let yourself get emotionally attached to the characters. It makes it harder for  _ you _ to move on to the next mission. They really should never have kept you.”

“I know,” I nod, my eyes closed. “But by the time they realized what kind of a personality I had, I had already been altered. There was no going back from that point. Those lazy bitches.”

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. 

“Yeah. Thanks, babe. I’m gonna get some sleep… Oh! Can you by chance run a trace for Ethan and John? I know you don’t have their blueprints, but is there anything you can do? I can’t find them.”

“Uh… Let me get back to you about that. Go to bed, sis.”

“Good night.”

“Night!”

The line goes silent and I open my eyes. I listen for a moment to the silence in the hallway. Then I hear a soft, distant shift in fabric down the hall. The slightest exhale from someone’s nose. Judging by the height from which the noise came it must be the tall brother. 

“Hi Sam,” I call. “Going to bed?”

There is a moment of hesitation before he steps around the corner at the end of the hall.

“Uh… hi,” he says nervously as his eyes look at me guiltily. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to overhear everything… just now…”

“It’s quite alright,” I say with a kind smile. “If I hadn’t wanted the conversation heard, I wouldn’t have had it in the open.”

“O-Oh… That makes sense,” he mutters.

For such a tall, big man, Sam is super shy. I smile and giggle lightly.

“You are terribly sweet, Sam,” I tell him. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

He looks at me with his mouth slightly open, his eyes wide. Shaking his head slightly he pulls himself together and looks at me curiously.

“After everything you just said about your past… how can you say something that optimistic?”

“Hmm, mostly because I can’t afford to dwell for too long on the past. I can only live for the right now and hope for small things. Otherwise, I would lose my mind. And I don’t mean like Deadpool insane. I’d probably become a very nasty villain, like Joker grade.”

Sam chuckles.

“He’s pretty bad,” he agrees.

I grin and nod before I look at the screen on my forearm . Tapping it I check the time. 

“Whoa! What is that?” Sam asks as he gets closer to me, his eyes are wide with wonder.

“Uh, well it’s my communication device. Like your phone and computer are for you. It allows me to make calls, send and receive messages, it also is how I know if and when a mission is complete, and if I have a new mission. It’s how I communicate with my door. The people I work for installed it when I was, ‘recruited’ and put through training. There’s a device in my left eye that allows me to communicate with it that way too.”

“Can I…” he starts as he reaches for my arm. I nod and let him touch the screen as he continues, “This technology is amazing! It even feels soft like the rest of your... skin…”

He suddenly goes red in the face and releases my arm. I smile and nod.

“Yes, this way it can be ‘turned off’ when I go to places that would be frightened of the tech, like the twenties or medieval Europe.”

“Have you been to medieval Europe?”

“No, thank goodness!” I laugh. “They would try to burn me for being a witch!”

He chuckles at this.

“Probably. Hey, you mentioned earlier that you had some friends you were looking for, but you told Dean that you have no one…”

“Yes, that’s part of the recent glitchiness of my door. For some reason, it sent two characters from a previous story to me when I was last in Japan. They helped me with my mission there. When it was over they came through with me to the modern fairy tale I was assigned before I had to come here.”

“And that’s never happened before?”

“ _ Never _ ,” I reply emphatically. “In fact, we are trained to be solitary and unattached to the characters we encounter. As far as Gersham knows there has never been a door that has done the things mine is doing.”

Sam thinks this over before bobbing his head a couple of times.

“You must miss them,” he says sympathetically. 

“I do, but I’m more worried about where they are than missing them. Maybe it’s because I haven’t had anyone I have allowed myself to truly miss in a very long time...” I look down at my forearm and note the time again. I don’t really want to get into this right now. “I’ve got to go shift my laundry to the dryer. Have a good night, Sam.”

“Yeah, you too,” he says, obviously getting that I’m done with this topic.

With a quick wave, I walk back to the laundry room and move everything to the dryer that could go in. Some things I have to hang up to dry. When that is finished I go to bed and pass out on clean sheets and a firm mattress. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any rights to Penny Dreadful, X-Men, Supernatural, or Once Upon a Time.  
> Traveler Lavinia, Gersham, the Citadel, and the Council are mine and should not be reproduced without my permission.

The next morning I wake up early, collect my laundry, put on clean underwear, and set about doing my yoga. When I’m done I fold my things, picking out form-fitting jeans, a soft pale blue shirt with quarter sleeves, I put my gun holster on, then a mid waist black jacket with silver buttons, and wedge boots. Shifting my curls slightly I looked at myself in the mirror over the sink in my room. Trying to blend in with the story is typically a requirement. I don’t always comply, like when I was in Japan. It was impractical there. 

_ But makeup wouldn’t be out of the ordinary here and… how long has it been since I put makeup on for fun? _

I had been a hairdresser in my much younger years and makeup was part of the uniform. With a nod to my reflection, I collect my makeup bag and proceeded to give myself a soft smokey cat eye and glossy pink tinted lips. Satisfied, I nod again to my reflection and put everything back into my duffle bag. With all my belongings in my grip, I head to the command room. 

Leaving my belongings by the stairs I go to the kitchen I had stumbled upon the night before. There is little to be found in the refrigerator. The bread on the counter is still soft so I make toast and put jam on it. As I’m biting into my second piece, Dean comes in, goes to the coffee maker by the door, and does a barely covered up double-take when he sees me.

“Coffee?” he asks over his shoulder.

“Certainly,” I reply. “Toast?”

“Nah, we’ll stop somewhere on the road,” he tells me.

“Smart plan,” I reply, with a nod to him. “I haven’t had diner food in so long, I’ve almost forgotten what greasy hash browns taste like.”

He chuckles at this and looks at me after he pushes the start button.

“Best thing for a hangover,” he tells me.

“You hungover?”

“Usually.”

I laugh suddenly and grin at him.

“I can’t relate.”

He leans his backside against the counter, crosses his arms, and regards me thoughtfully.

“I guess you wouldn’t’a get a chance to drink much in Feudal Era Japan.”

“Oh! They love their sake,” I tell him with a wave of my hand. “But sake is about as strong as wine and if I’m going to get drunk enough to have a hangover it’s going to take much more than that.”

“Yeah? You can hold your liquor, huh?”

“I suppose that could be said,” I smile mischievously. 

“So, you think you can drink more than me?” he asks with peaked interest.

I laugh.

“You challenging me to a drinking contest?”

He smiles devilishly before he goes to pour us each a cup of coffee. When he hands one to me he cheekily says, “Maybe.”

I laugh again as I take the cup.

“Did you sleep good?” he asks, changing the subject.

“Yes!” I grin and sigh with contentment. “I’ve missed a good mattress so much. Victorian era beds are hideous. I slept on the floor more than not.”

He smiles at me again.

“That’s where you went toe to toe with Dracula, right?”

“Yes,” I nod as I go to the sink to wash my dishes.

“What was he like?”

“About your height, leanly muscular. Rather attractive in the face but arrogant and selfish.”

“Sounds like how I imagine he would be… I killed Hitler.”

“Did you now?” I say with a smile over my shoulder as I rinse off my plate. He nods. “Well done, you!”

He grins, obviously chuffed, and bounces on the balls of his feet. Sam comes into the kitchen then.

“You guys ready to go?” he asks, looking from me to his brother.

“Let me dry these, then yes,” I reply.

Once my dishes are done and coffee is drunk we head out. Sam and Dean are in the front seat. Castiel, Jack, and I sit in the back. My duffle and sword are in the trunk along with their bags and several dry cleaned suits. When I ask about that, Sam informs me that they masquerade as FBI agents to get information during their hunter cases. 

As he hands me a black leather bound object he says, “This one is mine. We’ll make one for you today. I just need to get a picture of you and have it printed up. I don’t suppose you have a professional suit?”

“We’ll have to stop somewhere and get her something,” says Dean thoughtfully as he watches the road.

“As fun as shopping with you boys could be,” I reply, looking over the detail work of the badge. “I actually have a very attractive suit and heels to go with it. It will not be my first time having to look professional. Though it will be my first time impersonating a federal agent.”

“First rule,” Dean tells me as he looks at me in the rearview mirror. “Don’t be nervous.”

I smile warmly back at him.

_ How sweet, he’s worried about me. _

“I haven’t been nervous in over eighty years, but thank you for your concern.”

“Eighty?” Jack asks, turning to look at me. “How old are you?”

“Jack, it’s considered rude to ask a woman that,” Castiel tells him. 

“When you surpass fifty and look like I do, it’s no longer rude,” I say with a laugh. “I’m almost three hundred.”

“You look very unlike your age,” Jack tells me. Inclining his head to me, he adds, “That is a compliment.”

I chuckle and pat his hand. 

“Thank you very much.”

Small chatter about how Jack has been since Castiel died and came back, fills the car then. It seems that Jack is actually only a couple of months old. As he is a half-angel I am hardly surprised that he would look so much older than his age. We arrive in Dodge City a couple of hours later after a breakfast stop at a hole in the wall diner and then nonstop driving. Dean pulls up and parks in the parking lot of The Stampede Motel. The inside is about as overly cowboy, wild west as the outside; not so subtly hinted. Wall sconces made from cow horns, pictures of cowboys roping and riding out on the prairie, rugs with wagon wheel motifs. As we walk down the hall to the suite we are all going to share, Dean seems like a kid at Disney World. He’s almost skipping down the hallway.

“This is supposed to be the best room in the joint,” he tells us happily.

“How will we know for sure?” I whisper.

Sam chuckles softly next to me as Dean puts the key card into the door. This suite is designed to look like a rustic cabin. There are pictures of dead famous outlaws, gunmen, lawmen, and ads for wild west shows on the wall with the door. The furniture is upholstered in a cowboys roping steer themed cloth. It’s not soft to the touch, more designed for easier cleanup than comfort. A coat rack made from wood and cow horns is next to the door. Dean goes directly over to the wall of dead old west folks and starts pointing at them. Calling out names and spilling out ‘little known facts’. We all stand together, watching him like tourists at a museum.

“Dean really likes cowboys,” Jack says with confusion.

“What’s going on, Calamity Jane?” Dean says as he makes his way down the wall. 

“Yes. Yes, he does,” Castiel agrees.

“Doc Holliday! Hey oh!” Dean cries with glee as he looks at us. “This is awesome!”

“Have you met any of them?” Sam asks me curiously as he continues to watch his brother.

“I haven’t,” I tell him. “The only cowboy I know is technically fictional.”

“Your friend, Ethan,” Jack says.

I nod.

“He wouldn’t be up there,” I say looking at the wall. 

I note the tone of sadness in my voice and consider it curiously.

“Alright!” Dean says as he comes over to us, unaware of our conversation. “Quick shower, steak dinner, and then tomorrow, we hit up the cemetery.”

“Right,” Sam says as he looks at me. “We need to get your badge done.”

“We probably need a white background,” I say with a nod. “Jack, would you be a lamb and hold up a sheet when we need it?”

“I… I am not a lamb though…” Jack tells me.

I smile at his sweet naivete and slight disappointment.

“Please forgive me, it’s a term of endearment,” I inform him as my hand goes to his shoulder. “You don’t have to be an actual lamb. The phrase simply asks you to be sweet and kind.”

“Oh,” he says with a big smile. “I can definitely do that.” 

I giggle at his excitement.

“I know!” I tell him. “Look at you. You’re a sweetie through and through.”

“That’s still up for debate,” Dean says as he passes me into the partially blocked off sleeping quarters. 

My eyes narrow at his words. When I look back to Jack he’s looking at me with a much more neutral face. I just smile at him and pat his shoulder again before I set my things down in a corner. Pulling out my rolled up dark green suit jacket, a black button up shirt, and a grey suit vest. Giving them a tight throw-out and snap, I air them. Going to the bathroom I change into the top half of my professional wear, check my hair and makeup, then head back out. Sam has already pulled the white sheet from his bed and is having Jack hold it up a little ways from the window. 

“All set?” I ask as I come over to them. 

“Yep, just stand in front of the sheet,” Sam directs without looking up from his phone.

I step in front of it and wait. When he looks up he notes my outfit.

“That’s pretty nice,” he tells me. “Looks… pretty expensive.”

“The jacket, shirt, and the pants that match were a gift from Charles Xavier,” I tell him simply. “The vest is from another suit that was tailor made in Victorian London.”

“Hold up,” I hear Dean say from the other room. Walking into the living room, he asks me with outrageous joy, “You mean to tell us that you hung out with Professor X of the X-Men?!”

“He was my friend,” I reply with a startled nod. 

“Did you meet Beast and Wolverine?” Dean asks with an impressive amount of giddiness.

“Yes…” I say with a soft smile. 

“What… what’s that look for?” Sam asks.

“Hank and I were very… close,” I reply with a shy shrug. “Logan very much liked me as we were similar. I adored them all.”

There’s a moment of silence as they both look at me, the gears turning in their minds. Dean gets a look in his eye, he steps closer to me, our face inches apart, and then his eyebrow goes up.

“You didn’t… did you have a thing with them?” Dean asks like this would be the best news he’s ever heard. I don’t reply, I just look at him neutrally. “You did,” he whispers with awe. “You’re my hero!”

Looking back to Sam I say, “Picture time?”

“R-Right!” Sam stutters as he positions himself in front of me.

“Is Wolverine really heavy? I bet with all that adamantium he’s really heavy,” Dean goes on.

With a neutral face, I look into the camera of Sam’s phone. He takes several pictures before he puts his phone down.

“Good?” I ask, ignoring Dean bopping about like a puppy.

“Yeah,” Sam tells me as he eyes his brother. “Dean, stop.”

Turning around I take the sheet from Jack’s hands and gather it up. 

“Thank you, sweetie,” I tell him.

He looks at the blathering, star-struck Dean, and nods to me before he goes over to the couch. I turn to Dean and put the sheet into his arms.

“I knew Hank first,” I tell him calmly. “He was still very self conscious about his blue fur. I didn’t care about how he looked. You mix that with a moment of weakness and alcohol and you can picture where that goes. Logan and I met after I had been experimented on and locked away for thirty years. I met him after Wade broke us out of the facility. Logan was sympathetic to my loss and pain and we got very close because of it.”

“Oh my god,” Dean says, his eyes lighting up even more at all this information. “Did you get with Deadpool too?!”

“Wade is pansexual,” I reply as I turn to walk away. “He sleeps with anything that’s living.”

“You are the coolest woman I have ever met!” Dean calls to me.

I don’t reply as I go into the bathroom and change. Once I’m out, I hang up my suit in the closet next to Sam’s. Sam is working on his computer and Dean is looking at the menu for the restaurant attached to the motel. Castiel and Jack are chatting on the couch. Jack looks at me as I walk by.

“Vinia,” he calls to me, I stop and look at him with a smile. “You can have the couch. I don’t sleep much and Castiel doesn’t sleep at all.” 

I bow my head and smile at him.

“Thank you,” I reply.

“Actually,” Sam says, cutting in from behind me. “How about you take the bed and I’ll take the couch.”

I look at him and give him a once over.

“How banged up is your body?” I ask.

“W-What?” he replies startled.

“You probably have all kinds of aches and pains when you get up in the morning, don’t you?”

“Well…”

“That means you need the bed more than I do. I could sleep on the floor and have a better night’s sleep than you if you took the couch,” I tell him with a kind smile. “Thank you for your chivalry, but you will take the bed. It’s more logical.”

“Uh, well that’s…” Sam says in a shy, stammering way. “Thanks.”

Sam gets back to work on his computer while I sit down next to him and watch. Dean does exactly what he said he was going to do, he goes to take a shower once he’s unpacked. Once Sam is done with my picture we go to get it printed up before we head to the restaurant to meet Dean, Castiel, and Jack. As we pull into the Stampede’s parking lot, Sam sighs heavily when he parks the car. I look at him quizzically as he turns the engine off and pulls the key out. 

“You okay?” I ask with concern.

“...I just want to apologize for Dean,” Sam tells me, looking at the dash. “He’s a big fan of the X-Men franchise. But he really shouldn’t have bugged you about that kind of stuff.”

I nod in thought as I listen. Placing my hand on Sam’s forearm I smile at him when he looks at me.

“I don’t mind,” I assure him. “I loved them and getting to talk about them is a way to keep them alive in my mind. While it isn’t any of Dean’s business who I’ve taken as a lover, he seemed to be rather encouraging. Which was actually refreshing considering other people are hardly ever like that.”

“Yeah, Dean’s a surprising addition to the feminist group,” Sam says with a slight chuckle.

We sit there for a little while and I watch the emotions and questions race over his face.

“I miss them,” I say softly as I look out through the front window. “All the people I’ve loved. Travelers aren’t supposed to get close or physical with anyone during their missions. The main reason is because it could cause problems for the story later on but also it makes it hard to leave when the mission is done.”

“But you do it anyway?”

I sit in silence, thinking about how much I want to tell him.

“They took everything from me, forced me into this life of servitude. They tried to force me to become a machine in mind and action. Then when I was imprisoned on my first mission they punished me instead of rescuing me. I stopped caring what they wanted me to be like then and decided that I would do as I pleased. I don’t get to make plans or look forward to anything. So, I take small joys where I can. And the fact is, the best way to feel human again is in the arms of someone who actually cares about you.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Sam says with a knowing nod. “...Do you find someone in every story to be with?”

“No,” I confess, looking down into the footwell of the car. “Sometimes friendship and companionship are enough. Any time I find someone to be with it has always happened organically… Well… not always. Like with Hank, it was a drunken thing, but it was still very much appreciated by both of us.”

We laugh at this last part. Sam seems to feel better now, a bit more at ease.

“Did you worry I might take advantage of you or your brother?” I ask seriously. “Or you?”

“No. No,” he tells me quickly. “I was just comparing what you said to our lives. We’ve had to bury people too, friends, family, lovers. I-I know our lives aren’t normal, but… I just wondered if it’s hard for other people too.”

“Yes,” I tell him softly. “It’s hard having little to look forward to and just holding on to the smallest glimmer of hope.”

“We’ve been riding on empty more often than not,” he tells me. “Sounds like you have too.”

I chuckle bitterly and nod several times. 

“Let’s go in and get something to eat,” I suggest, changing the topic. “I’m thinking I want soup and lots of bread.”

“Sounds good.”

That night I discover that Dean snores softly and am reminded that motel couches are worse to sleep on than rocks. I end up sleeping on the floor in front of the couch and half-listen to Jack and Castiel talk softly in the glow of a laptop screen. Several years of learning to get rest while still listening and paying attention to my surroundings allow me to do this. I’m wearing an oversized shirt Sam let me borrow so I don’t embarrass anyone's delicate sensibilities.

It seems that before I got here Jack was attacked by angels who wanted to use him for their own purposes or kill him so that no one else could have him. Jack questions the stereotype that angels are supposed to be good. Castiel informs him that ‘good’ is a relative term in Heaven. The conversation turns to thoughts about Jack’s mother, Kelly Kline. Jack is certain she is in Heaven and Castiel agrees. Listening to them is sweet. They are like a father and son discussing the loss of a most beloved mother. It doesn’t hold the sorrow or bitterness that is usually customary. It’s instead, filled with love and affection for one another. 

Kelly seems to have felt and known that her sweet half-angel baby would grow up to do amazing things. Castiel seems to have put a lot of faith in her beliefs too. He lets Jack know, with great sincerity, that he sees now that his faith was not wasted. Their sweet moment is set aside when Jack sees an alert on the laptop screen.

“Oh, wow,” Jack says excitedly. “I’ll go tell them.”

In a flurry of footsteps, I hear Jack tear off into the other room where the sleeping brothers are.

“Jack. Jack!” Castiel calls urgently.

“Dean, wake up!” I hear Jack.

Then the next sound is an interrupted snore and the cocking of a gun.

“Aah!” Dean shouts.

“No, no, no!” Jack says loudly in a startled voice. “Dean, it’s me. It’s me.”

I sit up at this point and stretch.

“Ah, hey,” Dean says groggily. “Who’s making me coffee?”

Picking up my blankets and pillow I fold them before I put them on the arm of the couch I’d abandoned. After placing them on the couch, I collect a bra from my bag, put it on under the shirt I’m wearing, then move my yoga rug I’d been sleeping on to an out of the way corner. As I start my poses I hear Sam shuffle out to the computer while Castiel goes to the coffee maker. When the coffee is brewed Dean comes out to grab a cup. Jack sits down next to Sam, Castiel on his other side, while Dean comes over to me. He places a brown mug on the coffee table next to me. 

“Yoga, huh?” he mutters groggily as he goes over to the couch.

“Mhm,” I reply as I go into a headstand. “Thanks for the coffee.”

He gives me a thumbs-up before he cradles his own cup up to his mouth. There’s a clearing of his throat and a groan.

“I told you. He’s an angry sleeper,” says Castiel in a whisper to Jack. “Like a bear.”

“Okay, so code three is an officer down,” says Sam, groggily looking over the screen. “Looks like the victim was…”

“Covered in bite marks,” jumps in Jack. “Like from a zombie.”

I bring my feet down with controlled grace at the moment Dean decides to snap at Jack.

“Or anything else with teeth,” he grouses.

There is a moment of tense silence.

“Drink your coffee, darling,” I tell him sternly while I go into another pose. “What’s next, Sam?”

“We’re gonna change plans,” Sam says at the same time that Dean says in a snarky tone, “You don’t do that naked too?”

Another tense moment of silence.

“Who says I don’t?” I reply in a catty tone as I exhale. “What’s the plan, Sam?”

“Jack, you, and I will hit the graveyard,” Sam goes on quickly. “Dean and Cass hit up the crime scene.”

“Works for me,” Dean tells his brother. Then to me, “And I’m just saying I’m confused as to why you’re wearing a shirt since you told me you sleep naked.”

“Oh,” I reply with slight sarcasm. “Are you concerned about my comfort, Dean? You’re so sweet!” To Sam, I say, “I’ll get ready right away.”

I quickly come back to a neutral position, roll up my rug, grab my suit from the closet and makeup bag, and head to the bathroom. 

“...Nice tattoos,” Dean tells me, pointing to my leg as I pass. 

“Yes, they are,” I agree.

As I start to shut the bathroom door I hear him mutter, “Can’t see the rest of it though…”

“Dean!” snaps Sam.

My panties do obstruct the view. I shake my head with a laugh as I shut the door. They continue to make plans and get ready while I wash my face, apply makeup, fix my hair, and pull on my suit. Once I’m done I head into the main room. 

“You look too…” Dean says when he sees me, eyes wide as he sits on the couch. “You don’t look like an FBI agent.”

I look him over, a rather cheap suit with snakeskin boots and a bolo tie.

“I suppose your two day old scruff and frighteningly ugly boots must really pull the agent look off,” I reply sassily as I slip on my black stilettos. “I guess a fashionable agent would make the bureau look silly?”

“These boots are perfect for Dodge City,” he tells me tersely.

“Oh?” I ask as I turn to look down at them again. “What era and in what alternate dimension are you referring to?”

Sauntering over to him, I bend over, back straight, and adjust his bolo tie. He watches me with his mouth slightly open, his eyes trailing over my body.

“I guess, I’ll just have to come in second in the fake FBI fashion contest,” I say playfully. 

With that, I stand up and look back at Sam.

“Uh… R-Ready?” he asks me, trying to keep his eyes trained on my face. 

It seems he had been looking me over. These pants really do make me look good. Charles spared no expense on the suit.

“Lead the way,” I say as I indicate the door. 

He leaps for the doorknob to open it for me and I walk through. When I pass him he hands me my fake badge. Walking with Sam in between Jack and me, I look it over. 

“Jean Xavier…” I say skeptically and look at him with my eyebrow raised. 

“...Yeah, it was Dean’s idea… Sorry,” Sam says apologetically.

“It’s fine… but…” I click my tongue against my teeth.

“What?”

“I never really got along with Jean,” I reply. “She was so whiny.”

Sam barks out a laugh and quickly bites his lower lip.

“Sorry…”

I smile and bump him with my hip. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays!!
> 
> I do not own any rights to Penny Dreadful, X-Men, Supernatural, or Once Upon a Time.  
> Traveler Lavinia, Gersham, the Citadel, and the Council are mine and should not be reproduced without my permission.

Athena Lopez is the undertaker at the mortuary attached to the cemetery that was raided. She’s got this whole rockabilly thing going on that I appreciate. She can pull it off with her skill in hair and makeup. I say as much after we startle the hell out of her. It seems that she’s the only one in the building and she seems to prefer to listen to music through soundproof headphones. Seems unsafe and denotes a lack of care for her own hearing.

“There was no one upstairs,” Sam tells her.

“Yeah,” she says like it’s obvious. “It’s just me.” My eyebrow goes up. “You are…?” she says, looking us over with little care for the answer. 

“Agent Elliot,” Sam says as he shows her his badge. “FBI.”

“Agent Xavier,” I add as I show her mine. 

Jack has quickly found something of interest to himself and gone over to the desk at our left. Sam looks after him and purses his lips.

“That’s Agent Paxton,” he tells Miss Lopez.

She looks at Jack skeptically.

“He’s an FBI agent?” she asks skeptically. “Did his parents sign a permission slip?”

“He’s a trainee,” Sam tells her. “Top of his class.”

“And he’s a little sensitive about his boyish looks,” I say softly as I put my index finger to my lips and nod knowingly at her.

She looks from me to Jack and seems to decide on dropping the issue altogether.

“Anyway,” Sam goes on after glancing at me. “We’re here about the grave robbery. According to the police report you live on the property?”

“All my life,” she replies.

“You didn’t see or hear anything?” I ask.

“I was at a concert, Amanda Palmer,” she replies.

“Ah, Amanda Palmer,” I reply as if I know who that is.

“What about any cold spots?” Jack comes over to us. “Strange smells.”

Sam clears his throat as if to tell Jack to be quiet.

“No,” she says with annoyance. “Because I was at the concert.”

“Right…” Sam says with an awkward laugh. “We’re just trying to figure out what happened.”

“You and me both,” she replies with a huff. “If you guys want to check out the grave, the cops have it roped off. Over on the west plot.”

“Yes,” I reply, with a nod. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Sam echos. “Again, sorry.”

We walk quickly up the stairs and out of the mortuary house. Cutting across the lawn we make our way into the well maintained cemetery and over to the crime scene. Jack has an EMF reader out. It’s lighting up and making little whirring sounds.

“There’s something here…” Jack says as he looks down at it. “No, here…” he shifts slightly to a new position.

Sam laughs and turns the little device off. 

“Jack, this is a graveyard, there’s EMF everywhere,” he tells the boy with a kind smile. 

Jack nods then quickly puts it into his pocket as we get closer to the dirt covered casket. It’s been pulled out and is sitting on a stretcher next to the open grave.

“The police report said something about rats damaging the coffin,” Jack tells us.

Sam pulls the lid up revealing a lack of body and a huge hole at the head of the coffin.

“Some big rat,” Sam says skeptically.

“Yeah…” Jack replies as he looks in. 

“Forgive my ignorance,” I say as Sam lets go of the lid and turns toward the grave. “If the coffin came out of the ground like that, giant hole, missing body. Doesn’t that mean that something had to have dug its way to the head of it and then yanked the corpse out?”

“That is exactly what it looks like,” Sam replies as he jumps down into the grave and starts digging at loose dirt.

“What kind of… ooh,” I trail off as he reveals a hole where the head of the coffin would have been. 

When he pulls a broken pelvic bone out of the hole he looks up at me. Sam places the fragment of bone into my outstretched hand. Jack and I examine it as the tall man gets out of the grave. 

“What’s this?” Jack asks.

“Part of a pelvis,” I tell him. “What are these long grooves from though?” 

“Those are tooth marks,” Sam tells me as he looks down at it.

“Teeth,” I muse. “Someone must have been pretty hungry to chew on a long-dead person’s bones.”

“Let’s get back to the motel,” Sam says urgently. “We need to tell Dean and Castiel what we found and see what they got.”

Back at The Stampede, Dean, now wearing a cowboy hat, sits in a chair and looks over the bone. After an exchange of information, I learn that a Sergeant Phillips talked to Dean and Castiel at the code three crime scene. He is actually the uncle of the officer that was killed. The body was covered in coyote bite marks with a slash across his neck. Someone wanted that officer out of the way. The body had obviously been drug away from the police car that was parked behind a stolen truck. Sergeant Phillips, or Sarg, as he told Dean to call him; made it clear that the person who did this was not going to be leaving the city limits alive if Sarg found him first.

“Leftovers,” Dean says apathetically as he turns the bone over in his hands.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees. “We’re dealing with a ghoul.”

Jack’s eyebrows go together in confusion as he looks at Castiel.

“A ghoul is a monster that feeds on the dead,” Castiel explains. “They can take on the form of whoever they’ve eaten. Decapitation kills them.”

“Bashing their brains in will do it too,” Dean adds as he chucks the bone fragment to Castiel.

“So, like a zombie shapeshifter,” Jack says.

“Pretty much,” Sam tells the boy. Then to Dean, he says, “He had tunnels all over that graveyard.”

Dean rolls his head in annoyance as he crosses his legs.

“If he could be anyone,” Jack says with confusion. “How do we find him?”

“Can I just say, that I am getting real tired of fighting things that look like other things?” says Dean with irritation. Looking at me he adds, “Bet you didn’t think you’d be dealing with something like this, huh?”

“It’s not out of my wheelhouse,” I confess with a shrug. “Though, it’s not a typical thing for me.”

“Has anyone thought about this Athena?” Castiel asks us.

“A ghoul having a mortuary is pretty smart,” Sam agrees.

“Nah,” Dean replies. “She has access to the bodies before they’re even in the ground. She wouldn’t need to dig tunnels to get to them once they are buried.”

“True,” I nod. “She could take what she pleases before they go under.”

“Right…” says Sam with a sigh as he rubs his arm in thought.

“I think I may have found something,” Jack tells us as he taps away on his laptop. “I hacked into the traffic camera footage and ran the plates of the stolen truck. I found it driving through an intersection. Take a look. This is it from yesterday, before the deputy was killed.”

“Who’s driving?” Dean asks as he leans closer to the screen. His eyes go wide at what he sees. “Holy crap!”

“Yes?” I ask.

He grins as he looks at the screen.

“That’s Dave Mather,” he tells us.

A chorus of ‘Who?’ comes from all of us.

“Dave Mather…” he replies with annoyance at our lack of knowledge. “Cowboy, outlaw, one of the Dodge City gang.”

He gets up and goes over to the wall of pictures. Collecting one, he hands it to Castiel.

“He was one of the greatest gunfighters. Ever,” Dean says with a grin. “I mean he died in eighteen eighty-six, which makes this a little weird. But…” he chuckles, “Mysterious Dave Mather! I’m glad I got my boots on.”

Looking at the picture, I note that this man is scruffy, and not particularly noteworthy in appearance from any other old west picture. Dean seems to be very into these long dead folks. 

“Wait,” Jack says as he looks closely at the picture. “I think I’ve seen him before. There was a picture at the mortuary…” a smile comes to the boy's face. “He’s Athena’s boyfriend.”

I smile at him.

“Well done,” I tell the boy.

He beams with pride. 

“Right, then let’s get changed and head back over there,” Sam says. “Maybe we can catch up to him or at least ask where he is.”

“You’re gonna want to wear something that you don’t mind fighting in,” Dean tells me.

“Is that typical for wild west ghouls?” I ask with a bratty smile before I go to my duffle bag.

“Monsters don’t tend to want to be put down,” he tells me as he heads to the bedroom. “So, yeah.”

“Okay,” I hear Sam say as I head to the bathroom. “What are we going to tell Athena?”

“We’ll keep it simple,” Dean calls back. “We’ll tell her the guy she’s banging eats dead people and we’re there to kill him… or we could lie.”

“Yeah, we definitely lie,” Sam replies. 

I blurt out a laugh and shut the door to change in the bathroom. 

An hour later we’ve discovered from Athena that her boyfriend, ‘Dave Mather’, is at the bank getting some money. She seems deeply concerned, thankfully, when we inform her that he is suspected of killing the deputy and of the grave robberies in her cemetery. Wasting little time after exchanging all this information, the men and I head to the local Stagecoach Credit Union. It’s almost closing time for them when we arrive. Quickly piling out of the car we catch the ghoul just as he’s coming out, a red bandana over the lower part of his face, dressed to the nines in A-typical cowboy gear, he’s holding a revolver in one hand and a big black bag in the other. Dean stands a little ways from him with a shotgun aimed at his body.

“Dave Mather,” Dean calls to the ghoul. He looks at my charge. “Robbing a bank, now that’s a bold move.”

Dave pulls his bandana off and points it at Dean with a smile.

“You must be the hunter,” he says to Dean with a grin.

“And you must like to play cowboy,” Dean replies

“It’s my favorite suit,” he tells the older brother. “You know, I like to keep a little of old Dave on me. Just to gnaw on every now and then.”

I sit down on a raised flower bed made of red brick and watch with casual interest. Sam cocks his gun while Jack and Castiel look like they are ready to jump forward at any moment. If need be I will jump in, myself, however, four against one seems like pretty good odds for my team. Dave looks at Sam and the rest of us with amusement.

“Hey, hey!” Dave cries with a laugh. “I make it… two, three… four, five hunters! Hoo-hoo! It must be my birthday.”

“Why don’t you come with us someplace else,” Sam tells him calmly. “We can do this quick and quiet.”

Dave shakes his head in irritation before he grabs for his gun. Sam gets the first shot, hitting Dave in the chest. Dean fires his shotgun as he ducks then runs. He misses the ghoul and hits the truck behind him. Everyone is ducking, running, and firing while I continue to sit and watch. Windows are shattering on cars in the parking lot. The dull thunk of bullets going into the bodies of the cars ring out too. Sam seems to have taken an interest in my well-being as he grabs my arm and pulls me behind a nearby car, shooting over his shoulder as he goes.

“You trying to get shot?” he asks me in disbelief. 

“No one is aiming properly,” I reply nonchalantly. “And as I wasn’t moving, Dave forgot I was even a target. Now stop screwing around and aim.”

More shots are fired by Dave at the car we hide behind and we hear him holler out in excitement. 

“Why aren’t  _ you _ aiming?” Dean asks with annoyance.

“Because I thought that four against one was more than enough…” I reply with a sigh. “Apparently I was very wrong. Who taught you how to shoot?”

Dean scrunches up his face in irritation at my words.

Several things happened at once then. As I grab the pistol under my left arm while fluidly standing up, Jack got it in his head to come out from his hiding spot too. In a split second, I aim for the ghoul’s heart just as Jack goes running out to confront the fake cowboy head-on. Two shots are fired then, one from me, hitting Dave exactly where I had aimed, while the other comes from the ghoul. His hits Jack in the chest. My eyes go wide and I cry out Jack's name. He doesn’t seem to have been phased by the bullet or my cry as he keeps moving forward. 

Throwing his hand up he sends out a pulse of energy toward Dave just as the security guard from the bank comes running out too. The pulse sends Dave flying backward into the parking lot. The security guard is thrown into a pole behind himself, his head making a nasty wet crunch against it. 

“N-no!” Jack whispers.

Dave gets up quickly and runs with his bag full of money. Dean charges after him as he shouts to us, “Check the guard!”

“No!” Jack cries again as he moves quickly to the guard.

I’m at the boy’s side in an instant and I’m moving his clothes aside while he stares at the man on the ground. Blood is pooling around the guard's head and he’s not moving.

“I-I… didn’t mean to, Castiel. You have to heal him,” Jack pleads.

I check where Jack has been shot. Though there is blood on his clothes, he has no wounds. This must be part of his half angelness. I look back to Castiel who is now crouched down next to the guard. Putting his hand to the man’s forehead he waits for a few moments then stands. 

“I can’t,” Castiel tells the boy.

“Why not?” Jack asks thickly.

Sam touches the man’s neck, looking for a pulse.

“He’s dead,” Sam tells us.

Jack starts to breathe heavily as he blinks in sorrow at the dead man’s body. 

“We’ve gotta get out of here,” Dean’s voice says from behind us. “The cops will be coming any minute now.”

“Did you catch him?” Sam asks as he stands.

“He slipped me,” Dean replies.

Pulling Jack along by the arm, I follow the brother’s back to the Impala, Castiel brings up the rear. When we get back to the motel room Jack collapses in a daze on the red couch. Sam, Dean, Castiel, and I go into the bedroom to talk.

“Is this the first time he’s hurt someone?” Castiel asks.

“No,” replies Sam, he shakes his head gently. “But it is the first time he’s hurt someone that didn’t get back up.”

It gets quiet and we all look at the boy in silence.

“Alright, you guys should get Jack back to the bunker,” Dean replies.

“What?!” Sam asks, confused.

“Cops are gonna be on their way,” Dean replies. “We gotta get him out of town.”

“What about the ghoul,” Castiel asks. “I can stay…”

“I’ll be staying for that,” I reply resolutely. “It’s my fault that this happened. I’ll clean the mess up as best I can.”

“What do you mean, it’s your fault?” Sam asks, confused.

“I rarely miss,” I reply. “I hit Dave exactly where I aimed. But I forgot that I should have aimed at his head, not his heart. If I had, then Jack would not have used his powers.”

Dean nods.

“Alright, that’s settled,” he says with a resolute nod to me. Looking at Castiel he adds, “You need to be with the kid in case… ya know.”

Dean wiggles his hand at his head as if to indicate that Jack could lose his mind.

Castiel nods and says, “Okay.”

“I’m a monster…” Jack whispers as he looks at his hands.

I look over at the horrified boy and this feeling like an overly tightened cord in my heart snaps. I move quickly to sit on the coffee table in front of him.

“No,” I tell him quickly. “ _ I’m _ a monster. You are not.”

“I killed that man!” Jack cries as he looks at me in a panic.

“Did you do it on purpose?” I ask.

“Of course not!”

“Right,” I nod. “I kill on purpose. In fact, a little less than a week ago I killed a bunch of people with my sniper rifle. Before that, I cut the head off one guy and jammed a sword up into another man’s stomach. Then I pushed it up into his lungs and twisted the blade. I wanted him to feel pain.”

“W-Why would you do that?” Jack asks startled.

“He intended to kill my charge and take me by force,” I reply calmly. “The one I decapitated was also intending to kill my charge after he had killed a man I had come to care very much about. The men I killed with my rifle were on a battlefield and trying to kill the people I was with. I was covering them.”

“But that was all in defense!”

“No,” I shake my head. “I could have avoided killing those two, but I chose not to. I’ve killed other people to get them out of my way. I am, for all intents and purposes, a monster. Now, I’ve seen plenty of other monsters, I’ve seen the faces of evil and I’m telling you, you look nothing like them.”

“But you don’t either,” he insists, reaching out and taking my hands in his. “I just… I don’t think I’m worth all that they’ve done for me…”

“If you weren’t I wouldn’t have felt the quickening when I saw you. You are…” I smile and move to cup his face in my hands. “You are very important and you are certainly worth protecting. I know it because I can feel it.”

Looking into his face I’m struck by how much he reminds me of my daughter. It’s not so much how he looks, it’s a feeling he gives off. This sweet innocence and wonder at the world. A desire to laugh and make people proud. Jack’s eyes go wide when he looks at my face. I blink in confusion at his expression until I feel something rolling down my cheeks. Touching my face, I gasp when I realize that it’s tears. I’m crying. I look back to Jack and see his eyes look at me with great concern.

“Vinia?” he whispers. “Did I… I’m sorry!”

I shake my head.

“No… I-I don’t know what’s wrong with me…” I whisper as I touch my face again. “Why am I… What day is it?”

I look at my forearm and go to the screen for my own personal calendar: [August 11th, 294]

“Oh!” I whisper as I stand suddenly. 

The tears are coming in a rush then. The others come into the room at the sound of my sudden movements. Jack stands, trying to touch my arm. I back away quickly knowing that if he touches me I won’t be able to get control over myself.

“Lavinia? You okay?” Sam asks worriedly.

“I-I…” A sob escapes me. “...I need… ten minutes… Just ten.”

Dean nods with wide eyes. I pat Jack gently on the shoulder as I run out of the room and into the hall. 

_ I don’t have time for this! Not right now. Get your shit together, Lavinia. Two days, and then you can lose it, but not right now! _

I take my ten minutes to pull myself together and then I go back to the room with barely concealed embarrassment. Nothing more is said other than a couple of questions making sure I’m going to be able to do the job.

Before they leave I grab Jack up into a hug and whisper to him, “I’m sorry. For frightening you and for what’s happened.”

Then I give him a quick kiss on the cheek and push him to join Sam and Castiel at the door. Jack doesn’t say anything as they leave, but he does look at me over his shoulder once before the door shuts. Dean reloads his guns while I grab Tasuke Mamoru. When he’s ready we go get into the Impala. Silently in the night, we drive over to the mortuary. Dean doesn’t seem to be annoyed with me for messing up and I’m grateful. I haven’t screwed up like that in a long time. It might have something to do with why I cried. I’m going to have to explain that to them after we deal with the ghoul. It’s going to be embarrassing, but they’ll need to know what’s wrong with me. 

When we arrive there’s a native American looking man in a white worn cowboy hat, a rifle over his shoulder looking at us as we pull up. I take off my shoes and leave them in the car, Dean doesn’t seem to notice.

“That’s Sarg,” Dean tells me as we get out.

“Y’all looking for someone?” Serg asks as he walks over to us with a scowl. “‘Cause I am. Bank in town just got robbed. Turned into an O.K. Corral kind of thing.”

“We heard about that,” Dean tells him.

“Mhm,” Sarg replies skeptically. “Shante, the clerk at the bank, said she recognized the perps' voice. Said it sounded like that fella that’s been dating Athena.”

“That so?” I muse nonchalantly.

“And we got prints back from the murder,” Sarg goes on. “They match the ones from the bank. That boy’s been busy. I already checked out his place, it’s been cleaned out. But I figure he’s goin’ nowhere without his best girl. So, that’s why I’m here. Why are  _ you _ here and with a different partner?” Sarg eyes my sword then says, “And what’s that for?”

“Same thing,” Dean replies, “We’re here to get the bad guy.”

“I’m a specialist,” I reply simply.

“Mhm,” Sarg says again, a note of skepticism in his voice.

“Where’s your badge?” Dean asks.

“I don’t need one,” Sarg replies. “This is family business.”

“Well, I should tell you,” Dean tells him with a nod. “I’m not taking him alive.

“Neither am I,” he says knowingly.

“Grand,” I reply with a smile. “Shall we to war?”

The older man raises an eyebrow as I start to walk around him.

“Alright then,” Dean says. “Uh, aim for the head.”

“Yes, yes,” I reply softly, committing his words to memory this time. “I’m going to disappear for a bit.”

“Why?” asks Sarg as he and Dean walk behind me. 

“Because I’m going to play ninja,” I reply.

“This isn’t a game,” he tells me gruffly.

“Maybe not for you,” I tell him softly as we enter the graveyard. “But Dave seems to think otherwise. So, we’ll see who gets first place.”

“No screwing around,” Dean tells me.

I stop then and turn to look at him.

“Do I step all over your methods?” I ask waspishly. “No. So stop trying to screw with mine. Now, I’ll be watching you guys and looking for him. If you need me, call out.”

Then in a blink of an eye, I disappear into the darkness and up into a tree. Walking silently through the branches I step out of the leaves and onto the roof of a small mausoleum. There I crouch down in the dark and watch as Dean and Sarg move through rows of gravestones, flashlights guiding their path. In the silent air, I hear something a little ways off from them. Someone is moving quickly around them at a distance. Dean and Sarg seem to have picked up on this as they’ve stopped and are trying to shine their lights at it. I catch a glimpse of a person, the same general shape as Dave, dart around another small mausoleum. I drop down noiselessly into the grass. Silently, hidden, I move closer to where Dave seems to be hiding. Then, through my bare feet, I feel the vibrations in the ground around where Sarg is standing. Dean is a ways off from him now. Suddenly, Sarg yelps and disappears into a new hole in the graveyard.

Dean runs over to the hole, calling after the other man. I move quickly away, following the vibrations in the ground. After several twists and strange turns, the vibrations stop at the mortuary house. With haste, I scale up the side of the building with a little parkour and my very strong nails, to an open window.

The room I climb into is obviously Athena’s bedroom. Makeup and hair tools are everywhere. Bandana’s, pinup style dresses, rockabilly outfits, and shoes are littering every available surface. Without making a sound I work my way down to the embalming room, stopping a moment on the main floor to listen to the sounds of someone being beaten downstairs. Hurriedly I move down the steps to the basement. I peek around the corner to see a dirt covered Dean fall out of a chamber in the wall onto the floor, three feet down. When he gets up he goes over to the gagged and bound Athena.

“You okay?” he asks her in a whisper.

“No! What the hell is going on?!” she asks in a panic.

“Well, uh… Your boyfriend, he ain’t exactly human.”

“What?!”

There’s a loud grunt followed by groaning around the wall at Dean’s side. He goes to investigate and realizes that it’s Sarg.

“You okay?” Dean asks him.

“Just barely,” Sarg grunts in pain. “That son of a bitch dragged me down here. Tossed me around like I was a damn rag doll.”

“You got any idea where he is?” asks Dean just as Dave quietly appears behind him, seemingly out of nowhere.

“...A little bit,” mutters Sarg, obviously seeing Dave behind Dean.

Without making a sound, while Dave cocks his revolver, I move in closer, unsheathing Tasuke Mamoru. I don’t bother to push for its full power, this low-level creature isn’t worth it.

“Hands up,” Dave tells them, oblivious to me.

Athena comes into my peripheral and I notice her eyes get big while her mouth opens. I shoot her a silencing glance which makes her bite her bottom lip in response. 

“That’a boy,” Dave tells Dean who is now standing with his hands up. “What did you think was going to happen? You come down here with no gun…”

My movement is quick and clean, there’s a slight zipping sound as the sharp blade goes through flesh and bone. Dave stands there for a moment then drops to the ground, his head rolling away, blood pooling around his shoulders from his neck. Athena screams while Dean looks at me with slight surprise that is quickly taken over by a grin and nod.

“Nice,” he tells me. Then to Dave’s body, “Happy trails, cowboy.”

I smile back and wink before I grab up the dead ghouls jacket and clean off part of my blade, leaving some for the very thirsty sword. The blood disappears quickly, the blade soaking it up. It seems satisfied with its treat as I can feel it vibrate slightly in my hand before I resheath it. Dean is taking care of Sarg while I go over to Athena to untie her. We head upstairs where I get her a glass of water and sit her down in a chair to drink it. Dean and Sarg wait for me at the front door. As I approach Serg looks down at my feet with a raised eyebrow. 

“You did all that barefoot?” he asks me.

“Made it easier to be quiet and feel the vibrations in the ground,” I reply with a smile. 

“Hmm,” he grunts as we head out the door. To Dean, he says, “So, you mind telling me what went on back there?”

“Sure,” Dean replies. “A guy named Dave killed your deputy. He tried to kill you. You shot him dead. And we, uh, were never here.”

“Fair enough,” Sarg replies.

“And the security guard at the bank,” Dean says sadly. “Dave killed him too.”

Serg nods to Dean, then to me, before he heads back into the house. Dean and I get in his car and head back to The Stampede. While Dean takes a shower I collect my things and wait. He was covered in dirt from crawling around in those tunnels after Dave and Sarg so I’m not surprised that this shower takes a bit longer than his others. When he gets out we get in the car again and make our way back to Lebanon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying a different formate. Let me know what you guys think.
> 
> I hope everyone had a great Holiday week! I got a standing mixer and as dorky as that sounds I am so happy :D Anywho, I hope you guys are ready to delve a little deeper into Lavinia's story. This chapter gets a bit more gritty. 
> 
> READER DISCRETION ADVISED: Recounting of past violence, trauma, and abuse.

Dean is the one who breaks the silence in the car as we drive back to the bunker.

“You wanna tell me what got to you?” 

I look at him silently for a moment then I exhale softly.

“In one day I’m going to have a mental breakdown for twenty-four to thirty hours,” I tell him. “It’s going to hit me hard and I’ll be useless for anything. I would suggest you don’t do any cases until I get through it.”

“What? You just know this is going to happen… how?” he asks me, baffled. 

“It happens every year in my timeline,” I tell him. “For me today is August twelfth and the thirteenth is the day that everything that’s happened to me in my long life comes crashing down on my head.”

“What’s so special about August thirteenth?” 

I shake my head and look out the side window.

“It’s my daughter’s birthday…” I whisper

He doesn’t say any more for a while. 

“...How do we help you get through it? ‘Cause if it was me, I’d get blackout drunk.”

I laugh bitterly.

“It takes two gallons of vodka to get me that drunk.”

“Okay, we’ll make a stop on the way back to the bunker,” he says with a definitive nod. 

“You don’t have to do anything, Dean,” I tell him, still looking out the window. “I’m used to dealing with this on my own.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to this time,” he tells me. “If you’re gonna help us, we should help you too.”

“That’s not your job,” I remind him.

“The hell it isn’t,” he snaps back. “We take care of our own.”

I look at him and feel my mouth drop open slightly in shock at this proclamation. He looks at me pointedly in return before his attention goes back to the road.

“Got a problem with that?”

“...It’s been a long time since anyone’s said something like that to me…” I whisper. “The people I work for... not even they feel that way.”

“They’re a bunch of dicks, then,” Dean informs me as he hits the wheel with the heel of his hand. 

I can’t bring a smile to my lips, but I give him a grateful nod and look back out the window. The motion of the car on the road lulls me to sleep as the sun comes up. Several hours pass and true to his word, Dean stops at a liquor store in town before we get to the bunker. With two gallons of cheap vodka, a couple of bottles of whiskey, several packs of bottled beer, and our duffle bags thrown over our shoulders, we make our way into the bunker from what appears to be a hidden garage. Sam and Castiel are completely baffled by our plethora of booze.

“Hey!” Sam calls to us as he comes over to help.

“Hey,” Dean grunts back.

“How’d it go?” Sam asks as he sets the two gallons of vodka on the table in the middle of the control room.

I look past him to see Jack in the library, his head on his folded arm, on the table.

“The usual, kill the bad guy, save the girl,” Dean replies. “Lavinia pulled out some ninja moves, disappeared, and then showed up to chop his head off. That part was pretty cool.”

Sam nods, then looks at Jack real quick.

“What about the uh…” he asks.

“Took care of it,” Dean cuts in.

“Good.”

“Good?” Jack calls. We all look at him. “How is that good?” Jack asks as he stands up to come to us. “I killed someone. What was his name? Did he have a family?”

“Jack, don’t do this to yourself,” Castiel starts.

“No! Did he?” Jack asks.

The room goes quiet and I pat Castiel on the shoulder. 

“It’s alright, papa,” I whisper to the angel in the trench coat. “Let him feel this.”

“Yes, he did,” Dean tells Jack.

Silence fills the room again. 

“...Jack,” Sam says softly. “Listen, this life, what we do. It isn’t easy. We’ve all done things we regret…”

“J-Just don’t!” Jack interrupts.

Sam blinks rapidly for a moment as he puts his hands up defensively. Dean gets tense and I notice that Castiel’s hands clench into fists. Jack looks around at them and his eyebrows knit together in pain and frustration.

“You’re… afraid of me,” he says.

“Uh,” I raise my hand. “Nope.”

“Jack, no,” Castiel tells him.

“You know, maybe you were wrong,” he tells me. “Maybe I really am just a monster.”

“No, you’re not,” Dean and I say together.

I look at Dean as does Jack. 

He comes around me toward Jack as he says, “I thought you were. I did. But… Like Sam said, we’ve all done bad. We’ve all got blood on our hands. So… if you’re a monster, we’re all monsters.”

“I already said I was…” I remind him softly. “But, sweetie, you are nothing like me.”

“But you don’t… Every time I try to do something good people get hurt. I thought I was getting better,” Jack says as he looks at Sam. “But I’m not. I don’t know what I am. But I know that I can’t make the world a better place, not like this. And that’s what my mom wanted me to do. I can’t even do one good thing. And I know that if I stay, I’ll end up hurting you. All of you.” he looks around at Sam, Dean, and Castiel; then even to me. “You’re all I have.”

“You can’t hurt me, baby,” I inform him. “If anything you’ll end up making me stronger. Now, has it ever occurred to you that you have done good things? You found the case, you helped solve it by using your computer skills…”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” he whispers to me earnestly. 

“...You mean using your powers,” I reply.

He nods.

“Jack, listen,” Sam says while Castiel urges, “No, Jack.”

“I have to go,” Jack replies as tears come to his eyes. “I’m sorry. Bye.”

With that, he raises up a hand and sends a pulse out to the entire room sending us flying. It isn’t enough to knock us out, just enough to push us away.

“I’m sorry,” he tells us again.

“Jack!” Castiel calls as he tries to stand up quickly.

The sound of huge wings flapping is all we get as Jack disappears. 

“What?!” I say as I quickly leap up and look around. “No! You can’t go!”

“Jack!!” Castiel bellows into the air.

Sam goes running into the library to look around. 

“He’s gone,” Sam says when he returns to us. 

“No!” I whisper in a slight panic. “I can’t watch over him if he’s gone. I’m in charge of him…” 

My hands go to my stomach, the muscles clenching there, my organs twisting in fear. I squat down, hugging my knees to my chest. 

“What am I going to do?!” I whisper to myself. “Think…  _ Think! _ ”

_ He’s very powerful, he can take a bullet and heal instantly, like me. His powers are strong and amazing. He can obviously run away when he needs to. But he’s scared and confused and he has no one with him to reassure him. Will he be okay? _

It is made very apparent to us that Jack isn’t going to come back. Sam and Dean set about calling all the other hunters that they know, asking them to keep an eye out for Jack. But Jack seems to be covering his tracks well. Castiel, however, is concerned that Jack may have been drug down to hell by a nasty sounding demon by the name of Asmodeus. Or that he’s been taken to heaven, this seems to be the least appealing possibility for Castiel. I can’t seem to stop hugging myself. If the Council hears about this they will not hesitate to punish me even though it’s not my fault. They are already going to be pissed that I’m having my yearly breakdown.

“Okay,” Dean tells Castiel. “You go, call us, and let us know what you find out. We’ve gotta stay here.”

I roll my eyes and sigh.

“No, you don’t,” I say hiss. “I told you, I’ll be fine.”

“And if you’re not?” Dean snaps back at me. “You think Jack’s gonna forgive us for not taking care of you on the one day of the year you fall apart?”

“W-Wait, what?” Sam asks, wide-eyed.

Castiel’s eyes narrow as he looks at me. I close my eyes and lay my forehead on the table trying to focus on the cool surface against my skin. It’s a pathetic distraction, but it’s all I’ve got.

“This one is preparing for an annual mental breakdown tomorrow,” Dean ignores me. “That’s what all the booze is for.”

“That’s a lot,” Sam replies looking at the vodka, whiskey, and beer. “Are we going to be drinking all day?”

“Nope, the vodka’s all her,” Dean says. “Whiskey and beer for us. We were running low.”

“...I have a very high tolerance,” I mutter.

“I’ll say…” Sam replies.

“This is for the best,” Castiel cuts in as he comes around the library table. “My contact is skittish anyways and won’t meet with me if I bring anyone else.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Dean tells Castiel. 

There isn’t a reply as he walks to the door to the outside. 

“So,” Dean says as he claps his hands together. “What are your favorite comedy movies? Ah! You know what? Leave it to me.”

I’m feeling overwhelmed by Dean’s actions and words, Sam who keeps looking at me with concern and silent questions, and Jack disappearing. Ethan and John, where are they? Kanehisa dying just a week ago. Vanessa months ago… I feel like screaming and crying and breaking things. But I also just want to sleep and never wake up.

“I need to go lay down,” I whisper. 

“Wanna drink for the road?” Dean asks cheerily.

I shake my head and move sluggishly to my room. It’s coming harder than usual. There’s a pressure in my head and my throat feels like it’s closing up. My limbs feel weak, my fingers and toes are tingling. I need to get into bed now. Pulling off clothing as I walk to my room, I drop everything by the door once I’m inside. I don’t even care about shutting the door behind me as I lethargically pull myself onto the bed. Grabbing at pillows, I pull them to me, in the middle of the bed, and cling to them. I can’t even feel the cold in the room and I barely register that someone’s come in to put a blanket over my mostly naked body. 

Hours and hours go by until the twelfth is gone. I don’t move, I sleep dreamlessly. It is when I would typically get up to do yoga that my eyes open groggily and I feel the pain hit me. My stomach cramps, my heart pounds, my throat gets tight, and I know my limbs are shaking like I have Parkinson's. A sob comes from a gasp and the tears start. The sobbing and gasping for air while tears make my pillows damp goes on for I’m not sure how long. When I finally have the energy to roll over I find I can’t stand that position and sit up.

I’m clinging to a pillow, the blanket someone put on me is caught in my tight grip when there’s a knock on my closed door. I don’t respond. I stare at nothing. Maybe they’ll go away. The door opens and someone comes in. Dean’s face comes into my view. Once there he holds up a cup with red liquid in it. 

“Cheap version of a Seabreeze,” he tells me. “Drink.”

The tears trickle down now in silence and I can’t find the will to take the cup from him. He looks at my white knuckles and nods. Gently he places his free, callused fingers to the side of my face. 

“Let me help,” Dean whispers. “Say, aww.” 

My mouth opens slowly and he tilts my head back just a little to pour in the drink.

“It’s a little more vodka than cranberry,” he tells me. “When you get done with it, we’ll go to the kitchen. Sam’s made some soup for you and he got some bread. Said you’d like that.”

As I swallow the harsh liquor I feel the tears come more steadily again. They stream down my temples into my hair. Dean doesn’t make any comment about this. He just wipes the corners of my mouth with his thumb then sets the glass down on the desk behind him. Pulling a shirt off his shoulder I hadn’t noticed before he gently puts it over my head and helps me get my arms through. It smells like him. A sob escapes my mouth again and I find my fingers wrapping around his in a panic as he starts to stand. 

“Every… thing... h-hurts,” I whisper. “I just… want to… die…”

He nods as he sits down on the bed next to me and pulls me into a tight hug. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “It does.”

I sob again as I press my face into his chest. He runs his hand over my head as I scream furiously. 

“She was five!” I sob harshly. “I was ripped away from her and my husband. They took everything away from me and punished me every chance they got! I HATE THEM!!”

His grip tightens around me while he remains silent. 

“I was violated in every way that a person can be,” I shout as I pull back. I can’t bring myself to look up at Dean’s face so I speak to his chest, “They didn’t care. They just told me to keep working. Tore me apart and put back together, forced into experiment upon experiment. The Council just left me there for thirty years! Only coming to punish me on her birthday when I’d break down. And…” another sob escapes me. “And I can’t… do anything…”

Dean pulls me into another hug and I feel his breath hitch in his chest. His big warm hand pets my hair gently while I sob and mourn. It’s unusual, a foreign experience, but soothing. I wonder as my sobbing quiets,  _ is this okay? _ I turn my head, my cheek resting on Dean’s solid, warm chest. 

“I don’t get a say in where I go,” I whisper. “I’m just given missions and told to not fail. They don’t want us to get attached, they want us to be emotionally robotic. I can’t though, I’ve never been able to and they punish me for that too. I get attached to the people I take care of and when the mission is over I have to leave them all behind. When the door closes behind me for the last time they essentially die. I can never see them again and they can never see me. Friends, people that I end up caring about, lovers, they all just stop existing in my life. I’ve had two hundred and ninety-four years of that. Some missions only last a couple months and sometimes I don’t get attached to anyone, but more often than not, I do. And because I can’t die and stay dead, I will have to do this forever…”

I feel Dean nod, his right hand moves from my hair to my face. His palm holds my cheek as he wipes the tears away with his thumb. There’s a rumbling in his chest then he clears his throat.

With a tight, soft voice he says, “Come on, we’ve gotta get you another couple drinks.”

Nothing else is said as he wraps the blanket around me and picks me up. I don’t seem to be much of a problem for him to carry as he walks to the kitchen, I hold onto his neck, my cheek against his shoulder. The pressure in my head is oppressive and nauseating and I feel so very tired. Yet, I don’t think I could sleep anymore. I would end up rolling back and forth. When we get to the kitchen Dean sets me gently down on a stool at the table. Sam, who is at the stove, looks at us over his shoulder.

“Everything okay?” he asks softly.

“It soon will be!” Dean says with his dusky voice as he goes over to the kitchen island.

He grabs something there and turns to me with a forced big smile. In one hand is a glass with bubbling red liquid, the other has a glass of clear liquid. He sets them down before me, still grinning. 

“This,” he indicates the red liquid, “is a cherry pie cocktail and this,” he indicates the clear liquid, “is eight ounces of straight vodka.”

“Dean,” Sam says with exasperation. “Let her eat something first…”

I look at the drinks before me and then back at Dean.

“...My grandma used to make cherry pie… from scratch…” I say softly. 

Dean’s lips tighten and his eyebrows go together in regret. At the same time, Sam puts a bowl of what smells like potato soup in front of me, along with several warm rolls. I look at the gifts in front of me and tears come to my eyes again, this time I manage a small smile as I look up at Sam then Dean.

“I love cherry pie,” I tell him. “Thank you.” Then to Sam, “This smells good.”

They grin together at me then. Dean sits down across from me as Sam goes back to the stove to get more for him and his brother. 

“So,” Dean says with excitement, “what I’m thinking is that you shoot the vodka and chase it with the cherry pie  _ and _ I even went and got…” He yanks a dishtowel from its spot on the table. “Real pie!” 

My smile doesn’t get bigger, instead, I nod and grab the drinks. Shooting the vodka and washing it down with the cocktail. In no time it’s down and I push the empty cups toward Dean. His eyebrows go up and he whistles. There’s a numbing tingling developing in my outer extremities. He watches me for a moment, no doubt trying to see if I’ve had too much. When he sees I'm hardly phased by the amount of liquor I’ve just downed he nods and goes to refill them. While he does that Sam sets bowls for him and Dean down across from me. I dip my spoon into the soup, blow on it, and then eat it. While it is delicious I only get a couple spoons in before I have to stop. I just can’t eat anymore, my appetite is pretty much non-existent. In fact, I feel nauseous the more I eat. Sam seems sympathetic and makes no more fuss when Dean goes about refilling my cups. 

One gallon is gone in less than an hour and I excuse myself to go to the restroom. After I’m done I make my way back to the kitchen slightly pleased to find that my vision is sloshing a little and my equilibrium is off. I am halfway to the kitchen when I’m met by Sam and Dean. Stopping just short of them I sway slightly. Dean, who’s holding the cherry pie and the other gallon of vodka smiles when he sees this.

“Looks like someone’s getting to a good spot,” he says to me.

“Hmm,” is my reply.

I pull the blanket around my shoulder a little tighter just as Sam comes to my side and puts his arm around my shoulders. He turns us together with a smile and makes for his room. When we get there I see that he’s put a mattress from another room on the floor in front of his bed and added pillows to make it like a couch. A coffee table has been put in front of the mattress, a laptop sits open on top of it. 

_ He did this for me… a stranger. _

Tears instantly start to flow down my cheeks and I shove my face into my blanket covered hands. Sam gently directs me to sit down on the mattress as he and Dean sit on either side of me. I sniff loudly while scrubbing at my eyes roughly. Dean sets the pie down on his lap and pours a glass of vodka for me. While he pulls two forks out of his shirt pocket Sam pushes the spacebar on the laptop. The sound of a cracking whip comes across the small speakers, signaling the beginning of Blazing Saddles.

“...This was one of our favorites,” I say softly.

“Who?” Sam asks back.

“Jarod,” I reply. “My husband.” Sam shifts uncomfortably. He isn’t sure if he should turn it off or not. “I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to divorce him or pack up my things and just run away,” I go on. “He knew how to press my buttons. Wicked smart. He had a genius-level I.Q. but a good portion of the time his common sense was lacking. Still… he could make me laugh until I cried. We could have the deepest conversations that were… the kind that enriches your soul. I don’t know how he put up with me. I was so volatile then. Passionate about everything, emotional. I was a hot mess. Depression and anxiety, how did he do it?”

I can feel tears running down my cheeks again. Dean offers me a fork full of cherry pie hesitantly then puts it back into the pan.

“Sounds like he loved you a lot,” Sam tells me softly.

“He did,” I nod. “He waited happily for me to be ready to have a baby. Five years into our marriage I finally wanted one and he was such a  _ good _ daddy. The love he had for that baby girl…” I laugh suddenly at the memory, tears still streaming down my face. “He could piss her off too though. Even when she was a baby. Jare just had a hard time paying attention and reading the room. Still, he never failed to make her giggle like a loon. I can…” a sob chokes me then. 

My face goes into my hands, my torso folding over my crossed legs. I feel hands on my back. When I recover somewhat I sit back up and cough a couple of times.

“...I can still remember how she smelled,” I whisper as I close my eyes. “Her tiny toothed smile… She loved to play jokes on people. And she had this amazing ability to use logic and deductive reasoning even when she was four. It must have been because we’d been reading chapter books to her since she was born… Or maybe Jare’s genetics once again took over. She always looked more like him and his family than me. But she had my personality.”

I smile softly at this memory.

“...What was her name?” Dean asks.

“Aria,” I reply and look at him. 

“...You… Haven’t gotten to see her?” Sam asks. 

Dean sends him a glare. I down the rest of my vodka, cover my mouth with my hand so as not to breathe on him, and look at Sam. 

“I was getting ready to go pick her up from school… I think it was a Tuesday? Hardly matters now,” I whisper to myself. “I went out to the garage to get in the car when a door appeared on the wall. It hadn’t been there that morning and it would have led into the dining room. When it opened several men in uniforms I had never seen before came out and dragged me through. I was hooked up to machines that scanned my brain. No one seemed to care that I was screaming and crying, trying to fight to get them to let me go. Eventually, I was deemed creative enough to become a Traveler.”

“Creative enough?” Dean asks. 

“Travelers have to be smart and creative on the fly. If they can’t then they will fail their missions. Fixed moments in stories require creative problem solving to ensure they happen. I’m very good at that. When coupled with my healing factor, I’m the perfect Traveler. In fact, I’m the best, with a one hundred percent success record.”

“You haven’t failed even once?” Dean asks in awe.

“No,” I reply. 

“Do others fail?” Sam asks.

“Yes. And they are reprimanded and punished for it.”

“What does that entail?” 

“There’s a formal hearing at the Citadel, where their failure is recounted and recorded. Then, typically the Traveler is sent back to training. On rare occasions, and they are very rare, a Traveler is sentenced to death.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad,” Dean muses.

“Compared to other punishments, it’s not. Training is just lengthy and monotonous,” I agree.

“Compared to… other punishments?” Sam hesitantly asks.

“...I’m quite familiar with those,” I reply, glaring at the screen in front of us. “Even with my mission record being so impressive, I’ve been punished more than any one traveler. There’s flogging, electrocution, they tried brainwashing a couple times, but gave up when they discovered it wasn’t any use on me.”

“They beat on you?” Dean snaps.

I simply nod as I grab the jug of vodka to pour another drink for myself. 

“They don’t like me much, but I’m too good at what I do and too hard to get rid of.”

“What do you mean, ‘too hard to get rid of’?” Sam asks.

“Well,” I laugh bitterly, wobbling slightly as tears spill from my eyes again. “They aren’t sure how many dismembered parts of me are out there in stories. Now, if this body is completely destroyed, nothing left, everything vaporized, theoretically any part of me somewhere else, even if it’s a drop of blood or a finger, will recreate the rest of the body. That’s how this healing factor works for me. I can regenerate from seemingly nothing. Now! If that should happen, my door, which is attached to my genetic code, will go wherever my new body has regenerated. Meaning it still has an active traveler and can not be reassigned to someone new.” I laugh again and raise my cup in salute in the direction of my door. “Pretty sure the Council is concerned that I have body parts stashed in random places too just to make things difficult for them if they decided to get rid of me.”

“Do you?” Dean asks.

I eye him coyly, tears still shining on my face.

“Maybe…” I smile evilly. “There is a possibility that my right middle finger is in the possession of a Mr. Deadpool.”

“Why would Deadpool have your middle finger?” Sam asks, astonished.

I down another cup of vodka.

“He asked for a parting gift,” I reply drunkenly. “So, what do you give the Merc with the Mouth? What would he truly appreciate?” I ask dramatically as I press my glass to my heart. “He cried when I gave him my middle finger.”

“Sounds like him…” Dean muses with a slight smile.

There’s a long pause in the conversation while I down yet another glass. My vision gets a bit more blurry and I feel so much closer to being the level of drunk I want to hit. The kind where I won’t care about anything for the rest of the day. 

“...But you… never got to see Aria and Jarod again?” Sam asks softly.

My whole body goes stiff at this question, my eyelids half-closed, and I stare at the computer screen. I have no idea what’s going on in the movie right then. Hell, I can’t even focus on the people.

“No. I don’t know how long she waited at the school. When I didn’t show up and all the other kids had left, the school would have called Jarod. She would have been fine, maybe? But… she would have been scared and worried. I have no doubt she cried. My husband…” the tears come again. “He must have been so scared for me. I hope he never thought that I ran away. I hope he never thought I left voluntarily. I hope they eventually were able to move on and have a good life afterward. I hope she... “ a sob rips through me then and I close my eyes in pain despite the drunken numbness. “...got married… had babies… I hope she… forgave me…”

Dean grabs me then, my body shaking as I cry. Sam scoots closer and wraps an arm around my waist while he lays his head on my shoulder.

_ This is where my mind always goes on this day. It always hurts and makes me sick to my stomach. I wish I could have died on that table in my first mission. I wish the experiments had been a failure and I had died. Why couldn’t they have left me alone? _

  
In the end, I did get blackout drunk. Sam and Dean held me while I cried, Blazing Saddles playing in the background. I barely remember the brothers laying on either side of me and holding me until I fell asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any rights to Penny Dreadful, X-Men, Supernatural, or Once Upon a Time.  
> Traveler Lavinia, Gersham, the Citadel, and the Council are mine and should not be reproduced without my permission.


	6. Chapter 6

When I wake up the next day I find myself under a pile of blankets still on the mattress in Sam’s room. As I stretch and yawn I discover that I’m alone. While my head hurts slightly and my body feels a little heavy, I don’t feel the pressure from the day before anymore. Sitting up I look around the room. The empty bottle of vodka sits a good distance away next to a barely eaten cherry pie. Collecting the pie, vodka jug, and the cup I’d used, I make my way to the kitchen. When I get close, I hear Sam and Dean talking. 

“Dude, she only allows herself one day to mourn,” Dean says, his tone full of disbelief. “I’d say she handled that shit pretty well, considering.”

Internally I groan in embarrassment.

“Yeah…” Sam replies. “But…” he sighs heavily then. “That’s way worse than anything we’ve been through. That’s counting the time I was in the cage with Lucifer. At least that ended. How many people has she had to say goodbye forever too? How many times has she been abused by the people who took her away from her family?”

“It kind of reminded me of mom,” Dean says softly. “Only Lavinia didn’t make any deals. It was all out of her control. I don’t think I’d be anywhere near sane if I had to go through all that.”

“Me either.”

I step loudly into the kitchen then and they turn to look at me.

“Hey!” Dean says with a slightly forced smile. “There she is. How ya feeling today?”

“Much better,” I reply, returning his smile while holding up the pie tin in my hand. “How does pie for breakfast sound?”

Dean gives me a genuine grin then. 

“That a girl!” he tells me proudly.

“Are you sure you don’t need another day?” Sam asks me with worry.

“Nope,” I reply, coming further in.

I set the vodka jug down on the island and hand the pie to Dean. He goes over to the microwave to warm it up and I go over to Sam. 

“I’m sure I smell and look frightening,” I tell him as I put my hands on his arms. “I’ll go take a shower after breakfast. But I needed to tell you thank you for taking care of me. To both of you. I haven’t had anyone do that in a very, very long time. I usually just go off by myself and let it run its course. I’d forgotten what it was like.”

Sam pulls me into a hug.

“I’m glad we could do it,” he tells me, the sound of a smile in his voice. 

I pull back and smile up at him. He smiles back fondly.

“Alright!” Dean says happily as he sets a warm pie down on the table. “Now all we need is cold milk!”

I chuckle and nod. Giving Sam a quick squeeze, I move out of his embrace and head over to sit down at the table. We chat about nothing in particular while we eat, Dean and I chow down on the pie, Sam eats cereal. 

“Hey,” Dean says around a mouth full of pie. “You feeling like a case?” 

“Oh!” I reply with a smile. “Did you find something about Jack?”

“No, we’re still looking for him,” Sam tells me sadly. “But three witches were tortured before someone cut their throats. They’re about a hundred miles apart. They weren’t hunter kills, it was more ritualistic.” 

“All their places were ransacked, which means someone was looking for something,” Dean adds. “It doesn’t have anything to do with Jack, but it’s something to do while we wait.”

“Your logic is sound,” I state with a small smile and nod. 

“That’s… you sound more chill than the other day,” Sam tells me with astonishment.

“Ah, yeah, that was a foreshadowing of yesterday,” I tell him, my cheeks going warm with further embarrassment. “As I said, I’m back to normal. And, logically, if we can’t find Jack we shouldn’t rest on our laurels when we could be working. Yeah?”

“Yeah!” Dean cheers as he offers me a hand to high-five.

I smile and oblige.

“Also, I have faith in Jack to protect himself,” I add with a knowing bob of my head. “When he needs us we’ll be there.”

“How are you so sure?” Sam asks. 

“Because that is how it always turns out. He’s one of my charges, I’ve never failed them.” This seems to satisfy Sam because he nods. “Alright, now when you say, witches, what kind are we talking about?”

“Well, not Harry Potter. That’s for sure,” Dean says with a shake of his head. 

“Have you dealt with some before?” Sam asks.

“Yes,” I answer with an irritated grimace while glaring at the pie in thought. “The most recent ones I’ve dealt with were a particular brand of nasty I’d be fine with never having to meet again. In their nightwalker form, they had pale skin like something that had never seen the light, scarred bodies, marks of Lucifer taking them and warping them. Black and metallic green eyes and no hair. Always naked and usually speaking in Verbis Diablo. In the day, extremely curly hair and pretty to look at, wearing fashionable clothing.”

“That sounds weird,” Dean says with displeasure. 

“Hmm, annoying more like,” I reply offhandedly.

“Well, the witches we deal with look like everybody else,” Sam tells me. 

“Of course they do,” I reply with disapproval. “Easier to hide that way.”

Dean nods with a half smile at my comment.

We waste no time after finishing our breakfast to get our things ready and pack ourselves into the car. After arriving in the same small town where the third witch was killed, we pay for a small motel room, change into FBI clothing, and head for the local police department. While Dean goes in to get a full rundown from them, Sam and I check the traffic camera footage from the alley where the witch was abducted. We watch as she walks down the crowded sidewalk, completely unaware that she’s being hunted. She turns down a blind alleyway and that is the last anyone seems to have seen of her. As far as I can tell there isn't anyone that stands out who was traveling behind her on the busy sidewalk. When Dean comes out we show the footage to him.

“Whoa! Stop, go back,” he orders Sam.

Sam does as he’s told and we watch the witch walk past the camera again. Dean stops the footage suddenly and zooms in on a man in a dark suit and dark beard. Dean points at him with a tightly clenched jaw.

“Son of a bitch, that’s, Ketch!” he says angrily.

“No!” Sam whispers as he presses his face closer to the screen. 

“How is that possible?” Dean asks his brother.

“It’s not possible. He can’t be, Ketch,” Sam replies in disbelief.

“Mom  _ shot _ him, clean through the head!” Dean declares angrily.

“Exactly, so that can’t be, Ketch,” Sam insists.

“You think I’d forget the face of the man that tried to kill me? Twice?! And he’s thirty feet away from the girl that got tortured and murdered. I say, case solved.”

“Say it is, Ketch. I still don’t understand… w-why is he…”

“Sam and Dean Winchester?” says a soft female voice from behind us. 

We turn quickly to look at her. She’s petite with reddish-brown hair, big dark glasses cover her eyes, a huge soft pink scarf is wrapped around her neck. She looks upper class.

“Do we know you?” Sam asks.

“No,” she replies with an obvious tone and a flip of her hand. “But I know you. In my profession, it pays to know the enemy.”

Sam and Dean shift uncomfortably and look harder at her.

_ Must be a witch?  _ I wonder silently.

“My name is Daniella, I’m a witch. And I know you don’t like witches,” she tells them quickly. “But I also know that you help people who are in trouble.”

“You guys have a lovely reputation,” I muse aloud. “She has much different vibes than the witches I told you about. She’s… nice.”

I tilt my head and eye her curiously. Daniella is terrified and weak. She’s here to ask for help

“Alright,” Dean concedes. “Tell us what you know.”

“Of course,” she replies and nods gratefully. “But not here. Come with me, please.”

After changing out of our FBI clothes, Daniella takes us on an hour-long journey through thick tree-lined back roads before having us leave the car at the edge of the road. From there we walk into the trees following some small animal trail in a twisting, winding pattern until we reach a small dilapidated cabin in a small clearing. Taking out a set of keys from her purse, she opens the door and lets us in. The interior is covered in dust and cobwebs. The barest necessities are available in their open shelves, though they are covered in dust.

“You live here?” Dean asks in slight revulsion.

“It’s a safe house some of us use,” Daniella replies. “When we’re in hiding. From hunters, for instance. It’s almost impossible to find.”

“Yeah, we noticed,” Sam tells her with little patience. “Alright, here’s the deal. We trust you about as much as you trust us. So, why don’t you tell us, what’s going on?”

“What’s going on is, I survived. He had me. The serial killer you’re looking for.”

“No one he’s grabbed has lived,” Dean reminds her. “So, why should we believe you?”

She blinks a couple of times as if slightly ashamed. My head tilts again as I watch her pull the scarf from around her neck. She doesn’t look at us as she does this. Pushing her hair away from her collarbone, she exposes her neck to us. It’s covered in multiple small and thick cuts. They are starting to heal now, but they are very fresh.

“This is how he tortures you,” she says, her voice soft and wavering with fear. “Slow cuts with a red hot knife. While he was doing it I managed to get a hand free to grab him and whisper a quick spell. To disable him, to get away.”

“What did he want?” Sam asks.

“He kept asking the same thing over and over again. Where is Rowena MacLeod?”

“What?” Sam says at the same time Dean declares, “Rowena is dead.”

“That’s what I told him,” she insists. “That’s what everybody’s been telling him. But he doesn’t listen and that’s why he’ll keep doing this until he hears what he wants.”

“Did he happen to have a British accent?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, why? Do you…”

Sam cuts her off as he holds out his phone with a picture of the man named Ketch showing.

“Is this him?”

“Yes!” she says with surprise.

The brothers nod together, lips pressed tight in irritation.

“You have to find him,” she begs. “He has to be looking for me. He knows I can identify him.”

“Yeah, we want him to,” Sam replies apathetically.

“...You can’t tell anyone that you spoke to me. Until he’s caught, no one can know where I am.”

“About that…” Dean says with little concern for her fears. “I was thinking just the opposite.”

She looks at him startled. Then she looks at me with pleading eyes.

“Can’t you talk to them?” she begs me. “Surely you can…”

The communication device on my forearm beeps and I feel a vibration in my muscles. 

“Excuse,” I say, holding up my index finger. “I’ve got a call.”

With little concern for the situation at hand, I move to the other side of the room and tap my arm.

“Vinnie, how was yesterday?” Gersham’s voice asks. 

“Better than usual,” I reply softly. He’s the only one at the Citadel that ever asks after me like this. “Do you have any news for me?”

“Yes and no,” he replies with disappointment. “I’m still looking into the problem with your door, but I managed to locate your friends.”

“Yes! Where are they?” I ask with a grin.

“They are in the story you had to leave for your current one,” he tells me. 

“Well…” I say with a disappointed grunt. “At least they aren’t stuck here.”

“Not a good vacation spot?”

“Hardly. Can you tell if that story is still running?”

“It is…” he replies with further disappointment. “However, it’s moving at such a slow pace that I don’t think you’ll need to worry about it for a while.”

“Okay, good. Thanks for letting me know. I’ve got to get going…”

“Hey, I know you’re probably busy,” Gersham cuts in. “But you should know that the Council has been poking around, asking about you and your door.”

“I see…”

“I think you should prepare yourself for another hearing,” his voice is soft as he says this.

Gersham knows all too well how much they love to jump my ass. 

“I will,” I reply flatly. “Thanks for the head’s up.” 

“Sure. Take care.”

“You too.”

When I hang up and turn around it seems that Daniella has been overruled and a plan has been formed. She is to call some people that she knows, tell them where she is, and act as bait for this, Ketch. We will be waiting out in the woods, in hiding, to bag him.

Night comes quickly. We’ve positioned ourselves a ways off from the front of the house in the trees and bushes. The moon is hard to see through the thickly canopied forest, but I have no issue hearing and seeing Ketch when he shows up. He moves stealthily through the undergrowth. He watches the house for a moment, checking out the light through the windows. Daniella has left the curtains drawn in an attempt to be more easy prey.

Ketch moves quickly around and up onto the roof of the house. He pulls a canister from his belt, pulls a pin from it, and drops it down the chimney. With only a little noise, he jumps down to the ground in front of the door, pulls a gas mask over his face, and readies a submachine gun. He comes onto the porch with assurance in his steps and kicks the door through, unloading round upon round at chest level height. I can hear Daniella gasping for air as I take aim at his neck and squeeze the trigger of the gun Dean had given me earlier. There’s a small whistle as a dart flies from the barrel and into Ketch’s neck. He makes a surprised sound when it hits him before he pulls it out and falls to the ground unconscious. Sam runs in then to collect Daniella while Dean goes over to pull the mask off Catch’s head. A feeling of shock hits the room when the brothers see this bearded man’s face.

His jaw is wide, his nose sharp, he might be considered attractive, but something about him just doesn’t sit right with me. Dean quickly binds him and I help haul this heavy, unconscious man to the car. We don’t mince words with Daniella when we return her to her home. She gives us a thankful wave of the hand before she enters and shuts the door quickly. Dean directs the car back onto the road and we drive off for Lebanon. 

After several minutes of looking at the man next to me in the back of the car, I decide that I’d rather have no leg room than sit next to him. Gently I push Sam’s shoulder to tell him to scoot over, he looks at me shocked but complies.

“What are you doing?” Dean asks me with a touch of annoyance in his voice.

“I’m going to sit up here with you two,” I reply as I climb gracefully over the back of the front seat. “Something about that man doesn’t sit well with me. I’d rather be smashed between you two. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

“It’s okay,” Sam says. “I get it.”

Dean grunts and says nothing else.  There isn’t any further talking until we reach the bunker. Sam helps Dean set Ketch up in a chair and bind him to it in their armory. After a while, he slowly, groggily, wakes up. I’ve perched myself on the table to watch with a sandwich in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Dean wastes no time on pleasantries before he starts pounding the hell out of Ketch’s face. All while asking, “Why are you not dead?”

“One more… time,” Ketch replies with irritation in an upper-class British accent. “Why should I be?”

“Because we killed you,” Sam replies.

“Apparently not.”

Dean punches him in the face again. Ketch makes a guttural yell of pain and coughs. Getting close to Ketch’s face, Dean glares at him. I take another bite of my sandwich.

“Don’t mess with us, okay?” Dean says in his gruff voice. “You already killed Mick, you tried to kill us. You messed our mom right up. We’re already pissed off. So, I wouldn’t do that.” 

Dean goes quiet as he looks down at Ketch’s hand. In one quick motion, Dean grabs up Ketch’s hand, squeezing it tight and making his wrist press harshly against the metal handcuffs. Another grunt of pain escapes the man.

“Oh, look at that, you got rid of your tattoo…” Dean says with a touch of venom. “I bet it was a stick on. It was a stick on, wasn’t it?” he mocks hatefully.

There’s a fake smile on Dean’s face as he stands back up. Sam mirrors it.

“What tattoo?” Ketch says confused. “I would never get…” Then something seems to come to him and he lowers his head and closes his eyes. “Oh… I think I know what’s going on here.”

“Yeah?” Sam mutters.

“You have me confused with my brother,” Ketch tells them in his refined accent.

“Brother?” Dean echoes doubtfully. 

“Arthur,” Ketch says. “I’m Alexander, his twin.”

Dean rolls his eyes, his head following the same movement. Sam’s eyes narrow in disbelief. I snort and go back to my sandwich. Obviously, I have no idea who this man is, but even I can spot a lie like that. Dean smiles at the bound man again and gets close.

“Do I look stupid to you?” he asks.

Ketch looks from Dean to Sam.

“...Is that a trick question?” Ketch asks.

To which he is answered with an uppercut from Dean.

“Yeah… that was a bad choice,” I say softly.

Ketch groans as Dean stands and straightens his shirt. Dean looks at me and nods. I hold out the uneaten edge of my sandwich to him and watch as his eyes light up slightly. He takes it from my hand and bites into it.

“So, you’re seriously going to sit there with a straight face and tell us that you have an evil twin?” Sam asks.

“If reducing things to that black and white level helps you. Fine,” replies Catch. “Arthur was our family success story. Our headliner, our Donnie Osmond.”

Dean’s face gets skeptical, but he smiles regardless.

“Alright, Marie,” he says sarcastically. “What’s your story?”

The battered man sighs.

“Arthur and I attended a feeder school for the British Men of Letters,” he tells us.

“Sorry,” I say quickly, looking at the brothers with a hand raised. “What are the Men of Letters?”

“It was an organization that collected information about monsters and ancient threats, as well as artifacts and rituals,” Sam tells me. “The American chapters shut down decades ago because of a demon named Abaddon. This bunker was the central hub.”

“Ah… then why are we in it?” I ask curiously.

“Because we’re actually legacy members thanks to our dad’s dad,” Dean informs me.

“Right...” I say with a quick nod. Then to Ketch, I hold out my hand and say, “You may continue.”

“Excuse me, but who exactly are you?” Ketch asks, appraising me with his bruised eyes. “You don’t seem like a hunter, mostly for lack of flannel…”

Dean pops him again.

“...He’s right,” I say looking at the brothers. “You two do wear a  _ lot _ of flannel…” Looking back to the grunting Ketch, I reply, “I’m like a substitute hunter, but my job here is vastly different and possibly more important than catching and destroying monsters. Now, feeder school. Go.”

Sam waves his hand dismissively at the battered man before us.

“Kendricks. We know all about it. Just get to the point.”

“When it came time to initiate into the organization. I… fled. It wasn’t for me. And if they were to find me… I’d be dead,” Ketch tells us.

“It’s really funny because, you know, your name never came up,” Sam tells him.

“Well, no doubt,” he tells us. Sam gives him a skeptical look. “Arthur felt I brought shame to the family and to the Men of Letters. He had to work twice as hard to make up for my… public failure. And I had to work thrice as hard to disappear, live in the shadows. Do my work.”

“What work?” Sam asks.

“Killing monsters. All over the world. For a fee. A hunter,” Ketch replies.

“A mercenary,” Dean says with distaste.

“A man with my sort of training has limited options,” Ketch informs him haughtily.

“Can’t say I don’t understand the mercenary gig, though,” I muse as I look at the swollen and bleeding face of Ketch.

“Thank you,” he nods to me.

“You shouldn’t thank me,” I reply apathetically with my fingers to my chin. “I still don’t understand why we haven’t killed you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Arthur, Alexander,” I reply as I wave my hand dismissively. “It hardly matters. The first should already be dead. Now you should follow his example for running around killing witches like a psycho instead of doing it thoroughly like a job.”

Ketch looks at me with a confused expression. Though I am noticing a hint of interest dancing around in his eyes.

“Speaking of which, who's bankrolling their deaths?” Dean asks.

“I-I’m doing that pro bono,” Ketch replies, blinking rapidly.

“Why do you keep asking for Rowena MacLeod?” Sam asks.

His face goes oddly blank for the answer he gives.

“She’s a witch, isn’t she? Isn’t that what we Hunters do? Kill the bad thing?”

“Huh,” I say, cocking my head as I watch his face. “You get botox recently?” 

“Excuse me? Of course not,” Ketch replies with evident shock. “Why would you ask that?”

“Weird,” I mutter, ignoring his questions.

Dean nods to something, probably a thought.

“You stay here,” Dean points at Ketch then he pushes Sam and me out of the room.

“Where else would I go?” Ketch calls after us as the door shuts.

“Did you catch that lack of facial expression?” I ask as we head to the library.

“Yeah,” growls Dean. “But it came right back when you asked about botox.”

“Someone is hiding something…” I muse.

“I’m gonna get to work on looking into, ‘Alexander Ketch,’” Sam tells us as he goes to his computer. 

“Good luck,” I reply. “I’m gonna clean my pistols.”

I go to my room to collect my cleaning tools and come back to the library where I set everything up to begin my work. Dean seems to have disappeared and I don’t bother to ask where. Some time goes by and Dean reemerges with two more sandwiches, one he sets before me. I bow my head thankfully to him. When Dean is done with his sandwich, my guns are cleaned and back in their holsters; I begin to eat my sandwich, it’s got a lot of cheese and meat, a slice of tomato, and minimal lettuce. The older brother clearly likes vegetables less. Dean pours himself a whiskey when I’m halfway through and goes to sit in an armchair not far off when Sam begins to speak.

“So… I’ve dug up a pretty hefty paper trail on Alexander Ketch. Birth certificate, U.S. visa and passport, academic records form Kendricks for Arthur  _ and _ Alexander.”

“Sam…” Dean’s patience is almost gone.

“Dean, I went into the hard drive I took from the Brit’s U.S. base. There are academic initiation papers drawn up for both Ketches. With Alexander’s remaining incomplete,” Sam cuts him off enthusiastically.

“Okay, I don’t care how good this story looks,” Dean tells him. “I ain’t buying it.”

“If this group,” I add in, looking at them over my sandwich, “the Men of Letters, was smart they would set up aliases for their agents in advance and place them strategically so that it looked like legitimate information.”

“All right,” Sam nods. “For argument’s sake, we know mom shot Arthur, and we know we dumped his corpse into the waste canal. So, even if this is weird, yes, it’s weird, but we eat weird every day.”

“Yeah, but there’s ‘Ripley’s Believe It or Not!’ weird, and then there’s weird that’s just straight up bull,” Dean argues. “Now I’m thinking that Ketch weird is door number two.”

Sam sighs and grinds his teeth as he shuts his laptop.

“I’m gonna go talk to him,” Sam tells us. 

Dean sighs but says nothing more. When I’m done with my sandwich I take the opportunity to move chairs around and make myself comfortable. With my feet up on another chair I sink down into the one I’m sitting on and start to doze off. Dean is quiet, obviously deep in thought. Sometime later I hear Sam come back and start working on his computer again. In a soft voice, he tells Dean about his conversation with Ketch. The battered man seems to have believed his brother was purely a company man, 'through and through'. Which was why he seemed like such a cold-blooded killer when he was alive. However, Alexander seems to be of the belief that if his brother were still alive, he would express regret for how the Winchester family was treated. 

I can practically hear Dean’s eyes roll in his head. 

A while later one of the phones at a communal charging station in the library rings. Dean goes and picks it up. The soft male voice on the other side is answered by Dean’s gruff one. 

“Yes, this is Agent Russell… Yeah, I did give you my card… Really?... What kind of questions?... Okay, and when was this?” 

Dean moves over to a table and grabs something. This is when I open my eyes and sit up, turning around to see Dean writing something down on a piece of paper.

“What did he look like?... Yeah, we will check into it. Thank you very much.”

Dean hangs up while Sam and I watch with bated breath.

“What was that all about?” Sam asks finally.

“That was the manager at the Stampede Motel, the place we stayed at in Dodge City.”

“Right.”

“Guess his front desk clerk went missing right after some dude showed up asking questions about Jack,” Dean says annoyed. 

“He get a name?”

“Nope. But… from his description? Evil Colonel Sander,” Dean says this as if he’s not surprised in the least.

“Who?” I ask.

“Asmodeus,” Dean tells me.

I hear someone coming closer from the command room and my hand goes to my pistols instinctively.

“Tracking Jack,” Sam says, not hearing what I hear.

“Yeah. Which means he’s two steps behind him, which means we need to find him fast.”

“I should say,” says the not surprised, sandwich holding, Ketch who has just stepped into the library.

Though he has chains on his hands and feet I pull my guns and eye him wryly.

“I’m hardly lethal with a sandwich,” he tells me.

“I once pulled my own rib out to gut a man,” I tell him. “I don’t take chances.”

His eyebrows go up in surprise. 

“I see,” he says as he takes another bite.

Dean looks at him shocked, while I note that his face, though covered in wounds, is now clean, as are his hands. The twitchy guilty look on Sam’s face does not escape me either.

“What the hell is this?” Dean asks Sam.

“He’s in chains,” Sam says with brotherly annoyance. “There’s no bathroom in the armory. And he hadn’t eaten in, like, a day and a half.”

I carefully put my pistols back and walk over to inspect Ketch.

“Do I look like I care?” snaps Dean.

“Judging by your rage, my brother must’ve behaved very badly,” Ketch says to Dean though he eyes me carefully. “I understand your mother was the one who killed him?”

I examine the cuffs and chains and shake my head at how flimsy they are.

_ These wouldn’t hold a small dog,  _ I think to myself.

“And he had it coming,” Dean answers shortly. “After what he did to her.”

I look at Ketch’s face, this close I can smell him as well as pick up on all his micro-expressions. The corners of his eyes twitch at Dean’s comment.

“Hmm. And… how is she now?” he says with a measured tone.

His eyes are suddenly earnest while the rest of his face remains placid as if he is trying to hide what he’s thinking and failing.

“She’s good,” Dean tells him quickly. Then to Sam, “Would you put him back? Hmm?”

Sam looks at his brother as if he’s overreacting before he wiggles his head in a sign of compliance. Clearing his throat, he shuts his laptop and stands up. Ketch looks down at me and smiles with the side of his mouth that isn’t busted.

“You have a lovely fragrance about you,” he tells me.

“Thank you. That’s sweet of you to say,” I say with a smile. “But your lies make my trigger finger itchy. You should stop using them.”

He looks back at me perplexed. Dean smirks at me when I turn around before he pulls his phone out and hits a button then puts it to his ear. It rings for a moment.

“...Cass, any news on Jack? We need to find him fast,” he says into the phone. “...What? ...Cass?”

Dean’s eyebrows go together in confusion as he looks at his phone. 

“What’s up?” Sam asks.

“Something didn’t seem right,” Dean tells him.

“I’ll track his phone,” Sam says. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll get my sword,” I add as I move swiftly to my room.

“Yes. Let’s,” says Ketch as I pass by.

“No,” Dean and I say together.

I turn around and look at the suspicious man.

“No,” Dean tells Ketch again. “You are not part of ‘lets’.”

Ketch looks momentarily like a sad dog. His eyes go to me.

“There are few men I trust who speak in lies,” I tell him. “Currently you are not on that list.”

With that I go to my room and collect Tasuke Mamoru.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any rights to Penny Dreadful, X-Men, Supernatural, or Once Upon a Time.  
> Traveler Lavinia, Gersham, the Citadel, and the Council are mine and should not be reproduced without my permission.


	7. Chapter 7

Hours later we are piled into the Impala, heading to Channing, Oklahoma. The engine rumbling and the gentle swaying has me dozing in the backseat, stretched out.

“Man, I hate the idea of Ketch alone in the bunker,” Dean says.

“He’s locked up tight,” Sam tells him. “Not going anywhere.”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” I reply, barely opening my mouth. “If he’s a trained mercenary he’ll be gone when we get back.”

“Why didn’t you stay and guard him then?” Sam asks me with slight sarcasm.

“Because I don’t care two twists in the wind about him,” I reply. “He has nothing to do with my mission currently. You two, Jack and Castiel do.”

There’s a small silence before Dean exhales deeply.

“How we looking? You still got a lock on Cass’ signal?” Dean asks.

“Sure do,” Sam replies. “I nailed down his location. He’s not much further, so… Don’t worry. You did tell him not to do anything stupid.”

“Right… When’s the last time that’s worked?” Dean asks skeptically.

“Castiel has a history of… accidents?” I ask.

“You could say that,” Sam replies.

They get quiet again.

A few minutes later we pull up to Nick’s Bar, a horrible little run down joint in the middle of the country. The electric sign flickers and then goes out as does the rest of the lights on the outside. It gives the whole place, empty parking lot included, an ominous feeling.

“Huh…” I breathe as I step out of the car and look around. “This place feels rife with nasty vibes…”

“Yeah, no kidding,” says Dean as he pulls out a flashlight and his gun.

Sam follows his example. I chose not to do either, instead, I put one hand on my sheath and the other on the hilt. Walking up to the front door, Dean kicks it open and steps in, scanning the room with his flashlight perched on top of the hand that holds his gun. Sam comes up next to him while I keep an eye on our rear. As we pass into the room, the doors shut behind us and I scan the shadowy corners and under the pool tables. This place is trashed. Like a bar fight happened. Sam and Dean split up while I maintain a distant position by the door. I’ve learned to always expect the enemy to circle around and come through the front door after supposedly departing.

“There’s nobody here,” Dean starts to say.

Then I hear movement all around the building, feet hitting the floor, clothing moving against bodies. The sound of a woman yelling angrily comes just before the woman appears from behind the bar, lunging to attack Dean. Sam comes running from the back room just as two men come out from behind him. At the same time two other people, a man and a woman, drop down from the ceiling in the breezeway at the entrance. All of these people have oddly shaped silver daggers. Something about them is nasty and thickly evil. They are nothing like the ghoul I killed days ago.

The two from the breezeway come running into the room. I grip the sheath and emotionally call on Tasuke Mamoru’s potential. As I pull the blade out it becomes wider than its sheath. Sparks fly as it goes and I feel the power rearing up from my blade. If I focus on it, I can see the energy radiating, pulsing hungrily to devour whatever these creatures are. 

“You’re hungry tonight,” I comment softly. “Good.”

In a flash I move to the closest person, the woman, and remove her head, there is a sizzling sound as whatever was inside the human body is burned away instantly. The companion raises up his dagger and slashes at me wildly. In one swift motion, I go under his dagger and remove the hand that holds it. While maintaining my momentum I spin around and remove his head too. 

The sounds of battle fill the room as I move to Dean who is fighting one of the men who followed Sam out of the back room. Dean seems to be trying to hold this creature off while looking to his brother, to make sure he’s alright. I take the opportunity to run the thing through the chest, ribs, and plant my blade in his heart. I hear the sizzling sound again the creature falls to the floor. Looking back to Sam I see him get the advantage over his adversary. With one of those silver daggers, Sam pushes it into the chest of the man he’s fighting with. There is a rushing sound and light floods out of the man’s eyes and mouth before he drops to the floor.

Suddenly, the woman who first attacked Dean reappears behind me. I hear and feel her before I see her. I see Dean’s eyes go wide as I whirl around. She starts to rush at us as I spin to the side, allowing her to charge at where I had originally stood. Then I bring Tasuke Mamoru up along her spine. The sizzling comes again as she falls to the floor. As I let out a breath another one comes barreling through the front door at us, screaming like a mad man. He only gets so far before a silver dagger shoots through his throat, his eyes and mouth flooding with light. Then the creature drops to the floor, Ketch is revealed behind him.

“I told you,” I say as I look at Sam.

He looks at me shocked for a moment before giving me a sassy expression.

“H-How did you get out of the armory?” Sam asks. “Y-Y-You… chains…”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Ketch says to me, “for your confidence.” Then to Sam, “Lock pick. If you’d done the prescribed cavity search, as you should’ve, you’d have found it. I, uh, grabbed some weapons from your toy box and a motorcycle from your garage, et voila. What’s become of your angel?”

Dean cocks his gun then and aims it at Ketch.

“Not sure,” Dean tells him with a flat expression. Ketch looks at Dean with a mixture of hurt and confusion. “But I am sure about you, Arthur.”

Ketch seems to finally realize that he’s been caught, his face shows it. Sam grabs the silver dagger out of Ketch’s hand and moves over to Dean and I. This seems to startle him slightly and his hands go up defensively.

“You know, I gotta hand it to you,” Dean tells him. “That paper trail you cooked up, pretty impressive. But my gut told me it was baloney. Looks like my gut was right. See, I’ve been in it with you, Arthur. I’ve seen your moves. We’ve gone toe-to-toe. And I saw that look in your eye when you asked about our mom. So did Lavinia. So, why don’t you cut the crap?”

Ketch shakes his head, seemingly at himself as he takes a breath.

“Actually, everything I told you is true,” his accent has shifted slightly, it’s tighter now. “Well, except for the, uh, twin brother thing. I am separated from the British Men of Letters lying low because they  _ will _ kill me for desertion. I make a rather good living as a sort of soldier of fortune, deep underground, for a certain sort of clientele who appreciate my skill set. And I do use the name, ‘Alexander’.”

The feeling of exasperation exudes from the brothers. I’m not impressed either.

“How is it you’re still alive?!” Sam growls.

“I believe you’re familiar with the witch, Rowena MacLeod?” Ketch tells them.

“So?” Dean asks.

“She was captured by the British Men of Letters some years back. I discovered she’d sewn a powerful charm into her body that could bring her back should she be killed. I struck a deal, where in, she did the same for me in return for allowing her to escape.”

“So, after we dumped your body, you…” Sam starts.

“Good as new,” Ketch interrupts. “Only problem is, once the device is used, it has to be recharged.”

“Which is why you’re hunting for Rowena,” Dean adds on, rolling his head in annoyance. “Well, sorry. Lucifer burned her up. She’s dead.”

“Is she?” he asks skeptically.

“Why’d you come here?” Dean moves on. “You could’ve run.”

“That was where I was placing my bet,” I confess.

“Did it ever occur to you, Dean, that I might actually be one of the good guys?”

“No. Not even once,” Dean replies with clipped sincerity.

Ketch looks at me then.

“Surely you saw…”

“I honestly have no particular regard for you either way,” I say as I look down at my now, very clean sword. Looking back up at Ketch, I continue, “Can I say that you have a feeling of wanting to do what’s right for the better good? Sure, but who is to say what you feel is the better good? Do you seem like you want to help these two? I would say yes. Do I trust you not to screw things up, in particular, for me? That remains to be seen. However, if you create problems for me I will remove you like a cancer cell and no special charm is going to save you from my blade.”

With that, I deftly push the tip of Tasuke Mamoru into the obviously smaller sheath. He watches, wide-eyed, as the blade gets smaller and willingly goes into its home. Ketch seems to regain himself quickly though before he looks to Dean, he’s changed gears.

“You and I were soldiers in opposing armies who were at war,” he tells Dean.

“Well, the thing about war is, one side wins,” Dean replies as he raises his gun to point it at Ketch’s head.

“I suppose you’re right,” Ketch replies tensely.

In a quick motion that catches the brother’s off guard, Ketch slams a small ball onto the ground. I close my eyes before the flash comes and take a deep breath to avoid the smoke that follows it. Sam and Dean start shooting blindly while they choke. There is a ripping squish sound as a bullet hits a fleeing Ketch. I open my eyes slowly to see Sam and Dean chase after him. I follow at a leisurely stroll as they shove against the blocked door. When they finally get out, on foot they chase after a speeding motorcycle. Dean aims at the back of the rider as he gets smaller and smaller but a shot is never fired. I reach the car door and open it as Dean looks back at me.

“You couldn’t have done anything?” he snaps at me.

“I already told you,” I reply as I stop to look at him. “And now I’ve told him. As long as he doesn’t make problems for me, I don’t care about his existence. Besides, there are more pressing matters, you need to call Castiel and see where he is.”

Dean seems to realize I’m right about that and pulls his phone from his pocket.

“...Cass? Hey. Are you okay? We-we tried to track you down, but you were gone. We ran into a bunch of demons. What’s happening? ...Okay, well, what’s going on?...” Dean looks at his phone and then puts it in his pocket. “Says he tried to call us about the demons, but there wasn’t a signal. He’s got a lead that he’s following.”

“...Is that common for him?” I ask with worry. “To disappear, leaving a mess, to follow a… lead?”

“Yeah, actually,” Sam says rubbing the back of his neck. 

“...How terribly inconvenient…” I mutter. “By the way what were those silver daggers your… demons had?”

“You seen some other kind of demons?” Dean asks me grumpily as he comes over to the car.

“Yes,” I reply as I get in and shut the door behind me. “The man who made Tasuke Mamoru was a yokai, but most western countries would call people like him demons. The boy I traveled with when I met him was a half dog yokai demon. Sweet kid when he got over his pride. There were those nasty ones that played around in the Twilight in Russia. That was a lot more frightening than those odd things we dealt with in the bar.”

“What’s ‘the Twilight’? Like Jacob versus Edward?” Dean asks annoyed.

I laugh at the idea. 

“No. Twilight, in that story, sometimes referred to as the Gloom, was a magical realm beneath the surface of all things. I was more than happy to be done with that mission.”

“Sounds weird,” Dean says dismissively as he starts the car.

“Those, ‘silver daggers’,” Sam, who is now in the car, tells me. “Are Angel Blades and they kill pretty much anything… Well almost anything.”

“Angel blades,” I repeat. “Do they actually come from angels or are they supposed to be for killing them?”

Dean looks at me in the rearview mirror with interest. Sam turns in his seat as Dean smirks and pulls out onto the road.

“They originally belonged to angels, but obviously some demons got their hands on them. They can kill angels too,” Sam informs me.

“I noticed when you stabbed the demons with the angel blades their eyes and mouth lit up with light. Is that normal?” I ask.

“Seems like that’s what always happens to any monster that gets stabbed with one,” Dean replies.

“Tasuke Mamoru didn’t seem to get that reaction,” I reply more to myself than them.

“...No it didn’t, did it?” says Sam thoughtfully.

“Did you hear the hissing?” I ask with great interest. “Like something burning or gas escaping?”

“Now that you mention it, I did,” nods Dean as he checks his mirrors.

“That’s the reaction I got when I stabbed or cut off their heads.”

“You didn’t see any smoke?” Dean asks.

“Smoke?”

“Yeah, when a demon leaves a body and isn’t killed it looks like smoke,” Dean tells me.

“There was no smoke.”

“None?” Sam looks at me over the back of the front seat, then to Tasuke Mamoru.

“Nope.”

“Then you killed ‘em,” Dean informs me.

I think about this for a moment.

“If they appear as smoke when they leave their host, perhaps the hissing sound was Tasuke Mamoru devouring them before they could leave,” I say thoughtfully as I look down at my sword. “It was obviously hungry.”

“Hungry?” Dean asks skeptically.

“Yes,” I nod. “It has a consciousness of its own. It is a bloodthirsty blade but because it is mine and bends to my will, it doesn’t get demanding and it waits for me until I need it.”

I pat the sheath affectionately.

“Is that… normal?” Sam asks me. “For swords made from… what was it?”

“An Oni’s horn,” I answer. “Swords made from yokai of any variety seem to be obedient to the one they choose as their wielder. Of course, this is purely from the story I got it from, I don’t know that it would be the same in your world. But it does seem that swords made from evil, angry, or vicious beings tend to be very bloodthirsty.”

“And naturally, the ‘Oni’, you got yours from would be of that variety…” Dean replies with distaste.

“Yes, that was why I killed him,” I respond with a nod. “He was eating children after he did… nasty things to them. He’d been doing that for who knows how long. So, when he snatched up the little fox demon who was one of my charges, I didn’t have any qualms about dispatching him.”

“A fox demon?” Dean repeats.

“Shippo,” I smile affectionately. “Sweet little kid, the most fluffy tail!”

“He had a tail…”

“He was a  _ fox _ yokai, a kitsune,” I say pointedly. “Of course he had a tail… Now, are your angels easy to kill?”

“It’s not as hard as killing other monsters,” Sam replies with a shrug.

“...So, you consider angels to be in the same category as monsters?”

“Yeah, they’re dicks,” Dean informs me shortly.

“Interesting… and your demons, why are they using human bodies?”

“...Well…” Sam looks at me quizzically. “Angels and demons, here, need meat suits to walk around with humans. Angels have to get permission from their hosts while demons just possess.”

“I see,” I say with a nod. “But why don’t your demons have to ask for permission?”

“Why would they?” Dean asks, confused.

“...Because… aren’t they fallen angels?” I ask, very confused.

“Oh!” Sam says, seeming to understand the miscommunication. “No, demons are souls of people who have been in Hell for a long time. They have to be warped and tortured for a long time, turning them into demons.”

My face screws up into a look of distaste and annoyance.

“What?” Dean asks as he looks at me in the rearview mirror. 

“That’s absurd,” I reply sharply. “Damned souls getting to come back up from their punishment in Hell? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard in a long while. Someone has been jerking your mythology around… Where are your fallen angels?”

“Well… Uh, Lucifer is stuck in another world like ours but apocalypse-ie,” Sam tells me. “Aside from when Metatron kicked all the angels out of heaven, there aren’t any other fallen angels.”

“Yeah,” Dean agrees. “And they all got back into Heaven later anyways.”

I roll my eyes in annoyance.

“That’s even more absurd!” I cry out. “Lucifer wasn’t the only one who fell! He wasn’t alone in his rebellion against God…” I huff as I cross my legs and my arms in irritation. “Fine. But I’d like to have a nice little chat with the writers.”

“You mean to tell us,” Sam says slowly. “That in other worlds there are other angels as screwed up as Lucifer?”

“Yes. They are the demons that work in Hell and manipulate the human world behind the scenes. Pushers, if you will, who whisper into the heads and hearts of human beings. Of course, Heaven has it’s pushers as well, but they work far more subtly, nurturing, helping, healing. Regardless, Lucifer is always a nasty piece of work, trying to destroy humans and pee in God’s coffee.”

“Sounds like him…” Dean mutters.

“Heh, yeah,” Sam lets out a bitter chuckle.

I examine Sam, his face giving more away than I think he means to.

“You’ve met him in person, haven’t you,” I ask.

“Sammy was stuck in the cage with him,” Dean says softly. “For a long time.”

Leaning forward, I unfold my arms and reach out to touch Sam’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” I tell him sincerely. “That isn’t something I’d wish on my worst enemy. If I may ask, how have you managed to come away from that more or less intact?”

“...I had a really rough time when I first got out,” Sam confesses to me as he touches my hand. “But Dean helped me get through it eventually.”

I smile at this.

“You two are very close, that’s good to hear.”

“...Not according to some shrinks,” Dean tells me with annoyance tinting his tone. “Said we were, ‘co-dependent.’”

I think about this for a moment before I fold my arms on the back of the front seat. 

“I suppose that makes sense,” I tell them. He looks at me sharply over his shoulder before he looks back at the road. “But… you would have to develop that kind of relationship in order to survive this kind of life. Ancient warriors were very much like that too. They were never able to become citizens again because they were always either going to war or preparing for another. So, the relationships they developed with each other were very much co-dependent. If they didn’t the entire unit would fall apart and they wouldn’t be effective on the battlefield.”

Dean’s face and shoulders seem to soften at my words. Sam looks at me with a mix of curiosity, respect, and thoughtfulness. We chat more about fighting demons and monsters until we make it back to the bunker.

Days go by, Castiel calls us every day to let us know he’s still looking for Jack. We do a couple more hunter cases to pass the time. There is no more sight of Ketch and that seems to annoy the brothers. I don’t bother to weigh in on those conversations. It’s one uneventful day when we get a glimmer of hope.

I’m in the kitchen making a stew. Sam has set up his laptop at the table behind me, looking into possible cases while Dean has run out to the store to get more beer and dinner rolls. The sound of heavy footsteps comes down the hall from the kitchen, accompanied by Dean’s voice. 

“...but, uh, me and my brother… and a friend, are looking for someone. And we put out an APB with every Hunter we know and… nothin’. We really could use a psychic’s help on this. So…” Dean says as he comes into the kitchen, “if you could call me back. Thanks.”

He sets the dinner rolls on the island behind me and goes to put the beer in the fridge.

“Any word from Cass?” Dean asks.

“Yeah. Uh…” Sam says, not looking up from his laptop. “He says he’s still looking for Jack. Working a lead in Tucson.”

“K,” Dean replies as he comes over to the stove to look over my shoulder. “Smells good.”

“Good,” I reply with a smile. “Hopefully it will taste good too.”

Suddenly his phone rings behind me. When he looks at the screen he makes a sound at the back of his throat that hints at hope. He pushes the answer button then the speaker.

“Hey, Jody,” he says as he sets the phone down on the table next to Sam’s laptop.

“Hey, Jody!” Sam says cheerfully. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Hey, boys,” comes the pleasant voice of a woman. “I got something for ya. Friend of mine from Bismarck PD called me with a lead. He said that a local artist was found dead. ...With his  _ eyes _ burned out.”

Sam sits up a little straighter at this.

“Sounds angel-y,” Dean says.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, except that there was a witness. The victim’s girlfriend. She pegged someone at the scene,” Jody tells us. “She gave the police a description. I think it’s your boy.”

I turn away from the stove then and look at Sam and Dean. They look at each other then at me.

“H-He wouldn’t do something like that… would he?” I ask, worried. “He’s too sweet. Has he done something like that before?”

“No,” Sam insists. 

“But maybe he did,” Dean says to us. Then to the phone, “Thanks, Jody. We’ll follow it up.”

“Sure,” she replies. “Good luck, guys.”

“Alright,” I say as I grab bowls. “Eat up, we’re rolling out as soon as we’re done.”

“Right,” Dean replies.

We do our usual packing and load into the car when we’re done with food and dishes. Many hours later we pull into Bismarck, North Dakota. After we get a hotel room and change into our ‘FBI’ suits, we go over to the address of the dead artist’s house that Jody had texted Dean. The woman who answers the door is pretty, but obviously in mourning. Comfy clothes, messy hair, puffy eyes, all tell that she’s had a recent tragedy. She allows us in when we show her our fake, but real looking badges. Sam hands her a picture of Jack and asks if this was the man she saw.

“Yeah,” she says softly. “He said he was a buyer.”

“Um… a buyer?” Sam asks.

She turns and indicates the room filled to bursting with paintings.

“These are beautiful,” I say in awe as I get closer to a colorful one.

“Some freaky stuff here,” Dean says harshly. 

I turn to look at what he’s calling freaky. There’s a blurry shape like a cliff with a monstrous shadow in the misty background. Where eyes should be, there are two red glowing orbs.

“Derek had quite the imagination,” Dean adds.

“He hated that word,” she says with a soft sob.

“What? ‘Freaky’?” Sam asks.

She shakes her head.

“Imagination,” she replies. “He liked to think of his art more as reportage.”

“Reportage?” I ask.

“Reportage from where?” Sam asks.

“From the places he’d visit,” she tells us. “Derek was a dreamwalker.”

“Oh!” I say softly as I step closer to her. “I’ve met some folks who were dreamwalkers.”

I’m thinking of Ethan’s Apache father, Kaetenay. Dean seems to have found something tucked behind several canvases that has caused him to stop moving and stare. I move over to him as he pulls the ones in front out of the way to look at a big, panoramic view of a dusty wasteland. Huge spikes jut up from the ground. Lightning flashes in the background. It has the feeling of a place void of hope.

“Sam,” Dean calls.

When Sam turns around he seems to connect with this picture in the same way that Dean does.

“Look familiar?” I whisper.

Dean just nods before he puts the other canvases back and turns to the artist’s girlfriend. 

“Thank you for your time,” he tells her as he practically shoves us out the door to the car.

Once inside the car, we take off for a gas station for coffee. Dean doesn’t want to talk until he has a cup in his hand it would seem.

“What was all that with the painting?” I ask. 

“That’s the world, another dimension, that Jack opened a rift to when he was born,” Sam tells me. “That’s where Lucifer and our mom are.”

“Mom is dead,” snaps Dean.

“Why am I just now hearing about this rift?” I ask with annoyance. “Did you not think it to be pertinent information?”

“It just… kind of slipped our minds,” Sam tells me.

“It slipped your mind that this might be why we can’t find Jack?” 

“Kid can’t open rifts right now,” Dean says. “He hasn’t figured out how to use his angel powers like that.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees. “He was only able to make it happen the first time because a Nephilim birth is such a strong and powerful event. A lot of energy was put out to make it happen.”

“So much so, that it killed his mom to give birth to him,” Dean adds.

“...I see,” I reply in a softer tone. “That’s sad, but a bit of a relief that he’s still on this planet.”

Sam opens the glove box and pulls out a tattered and well-used journal as Dean pulls into the parking lot of some tiny gas station. While he goes to get coffee I peer over Sam’s shoulder and watch as he leafs through the pages. When he finds what he’s looking for he stops and holds up the book so we can both read. In tight, neat, architect style handwriting, there is information about dreamwalking. Unfortunately, what there is, is more hearsay than fact and it’s patchy. Sam tells Dean as much when he gets back with the coffee. 

“Sam… are we gonna talk about that painting?” Dean asks.

“What about it?”

“It looks like Jack gave up on us and went looking for daddy,” Dean says with an obvious tone.

“We don’t know that.”

“Don’t we?” snaps Dean. “A guy is dead. Look, I hate this, too. But we’ve gotta be prepared. That goes for you too.”

Dean looks back at me.

“...To kill him,” Sam says bitterly to his brother.

I look at Dean appalled.

“Absolutely not!” I say loudly. “My job is to protect him. Not kill him.”

“Listen, I actually like the kid,” Dean tells me and a clenched jawed Sam. “But, I mean, we’re in worst-case scenario land here.”

“What is wrong with you!” I snap.

“Dean we need more information,” Sam tells him. “I mean…” he sighs heavily. “We gotta figure out what Jack wanted, how dreamwalking even works.”

Sam says this as he grabs up his tablet.

“I will lay your ass out if you try to kill that boy,” I tell Dean flatly.

He looks back at me for a moment then he looks at Sam

“Fine, let’s go to the reservations,” he says tightly. “Let’s talk to a-a chief or a tribal leader.”

Sam nods patiently to this as he waits for his turn to talk.

“Or,” he says finally. “We talk to a dreamwalker…” Sam looks at his brother who seems to be all ears now. With a nod, Sam points to his tablet and goes on, “I hacked into Derek’s e-mail. He’s been corresponding with another dreamwalker for months, a girl named, Kaia Nieves. He had been trying to coach her, to teach her to control her power.”

“All right. Where is she?” Dean asks.

Sam does some quick searching and hacking again. The car goes silent. I sip at my coffee while I look out the window to my left. Dean shifts in his seat and looks back at me once more.

“Listen,” he tells me. “I don’t want to do it. But if the kid is going dark side, we have to take him out to protect the world.”

“You know, I bet that’s the same kind of bullshit thinking that those bastards at the Citadel have when they snatch unsuspecting people from my world and force them into servitude,” I reply as I look at him levelly. “Did you forget how terrified that baby was to hurt us? Did you forget that he called you his family? He wants to be like you and Sam so much that he’s in pain when he hurts people instead of saving them.” I shake my head in disappointment. “Shame on you for thinking he would turn evil just because he isn’t tucked under your wing. Shame on you for losing faith in him.”

I look back out the window.

“...L-Look,” he says urgently. “It’s not like that. I…”

“What’s it like, then?” I ask as I snap my eyes back to him.

“We’ve seen too many good people turn bad because they get fed up with the long route and they try to take shortcuts,” Dean tells me. “Hell, even Sam and I have done it a couple times. More than a couple, actually!”

“So, really this about you projecting your past onto someone else,” I say flatly. “I think you need to get some therapy and cut that shit out.” He opens his mouth to speak and I hold up my hand. “I’m done talking to you, for now. Please, just reflect on what I said.”

I turn my face to the window again, tasting sadness and tension in the air. I find it rather unnerving how much weight these two put on my opinions and words. It’s nice, comforting even, but I’m not used to people valuing me like that so quickly. It almost scares me how much I really like it. 

Eventually, Sam finds out that Kaia is in a detention facility in Minnesota for overdosing on amphetamines in an abandoned warehouse. According to the medical report, there were enough amphetamines in her system to take down a small rhino. I wonder about this as we pull up to the facility. Kaetenay had used herbs and I think peyote to dreamwalk. Would amphetamines produce the same result?

Sam, who has been doing research on Kaia while we drove in silence, speaks up now as we start walking to the building.

“Kaia never knew her father. Her mom died in an accident when she was twelve, so her aunt took her in. And then  _ she _ died… cancer.”

“Damn,” Dean says.

“That’s a rough life,” I murmur.

“Yeah, been on her own ever since,” Sam agrees. “Until her O.D. and arrest.”

“Bad hand,” Dean adds. “No wonder she ended up here.”

We get into the building only to find that there are alarms sounding and people running around trying to figure out what’s going on. It seems a strange boy with blonde hair has knocked out a counselor and busted open a triple-locked door, Kaia is reportedly following him. We flash our badges and run down the hall that they’ve gone down. As we get to the door that is no longer on its hinges we see Jack and a pretty, young girl with sad eyes standing outside. 

“Jack!” Sam shouts as we come out the door. 

The girl, Kaia, takes that moment to kick the back of Jack’s knee, sending him to the ground. When he turns to look at her she clocks him right in the jaw before she runs away. Jack grunts and looks after her confused.

“She hit me!” Jack says in astonishment.

“Yeah, good,” Dean says as he comes around to stand on the other side of Jack.

“No, she’s getting away. I…” Jack starts, holding a hand out in her direction.

He’s looking after her as I grab him up into a hug.

“Where have you been!” I snap as I look him over like a mother hen does to her chick.

“I need to go after her,” he insists.

“No. No, no, no, no,” Dean orders him. “We’re not letting you go anywhere near her until you tell us what’s going on.”

“No, I need her,” Jack tells him.

“You need her like you needed Derek?” Sam asks.

“Yes. You… You don’t,” Jack lets out a sigh as Dean looks at him nervously. “I’m doing this for  _ you _ .”

He looks at Sam and Dean.

“Oh, you killed Derek for us?” growls Dean.

“Derek’s dead?!” Jack whispers in surprise.

Dean’s expression changes instantly when he sees the shock on Jack’s face.

“Wait, hold on a second,” Sam says when I smack Dean’s shoulder. “Jack, tell us what happened. Everything.”

“I left to try to get a grip on my powers. I wanted to prove to you that I’m good, to do one good thing. So, I did the thing you wanted the most. I experimented opening doors to other worlds. I could almost do it. I could get right to the edge. But I couldn’t see. I could only feel around in the dark. I needed eyes. A seer.”

“A dreamwalker,” Sam says relieved.

“Yeah,” Jack says with a nod. “So, I researched. Like you taught me. That’s how I found Derek. I didn’t know if it would work, but it did! He dream walked and I joined him in Apocalypse world. I could see what he saw. And I saw…” Jack gets a pleased though sad expression on his face. “I saw her.”

“Her?” I ask.

“Your mother,” Jack tells Sam. Then to Dean, “She’s alive.”

“What?” Dean whispers.

“But she’s in danger,” Jack tells him.

“W-What does that mean?” Sam stutters. “What… what kind of danger?”

“It’s easier if I show you,” Jack tells them.

He takes my head in his hands and pulls me close to him, then he puts his fingers to Sam and Dean’s temples. Gently he presses his forehead to mine. There’s a tingling on my skin and the sound of electricity crackling. I feel warmth in my eyes as my vision disappears for a moment only to reappear, looking at a strange landscape much like the one in that painting. I seem to be floating over the sand, past giant spikes jutting out of the ground. Lightning flashes across the sky. Suddenly I’m at a weathered door. 

Fading through it, I seem to have entered a run-down, one room church. Pews are scattered and broken. A statue of Jesus on the cross hangs on a dilapidated wall next to a distant doorway. Floating to the room beyond I see a blonde woman in a cage that she can only stand in. When I see her I know instantly that she is my mission here. Thunder and lightning rage outside. She seems to slump slightly and is rewarded by being stabbed in the side by metal spikes that line the interior of the cage. She grunts and cries out for help as blood flows from these new open wounds. There are others that are older all over her shoulders and torso. She cries out again as I am suddenly being yanked backward through everything I’d just seen.

I blink. 

When I open my eyes again I’m standing in front of Jack, his eyes glowing golden. He shuts his eyes and takes his hands from Sam and Dean’s heads. When he opens his eyes again his eyes are back to normal.

“Mom!” Dean exhales sharply.

Sam is breathing hard.

“I was so close to her, I could have touched her,” Jack tells Sam sorrowfully. “But Derek wasn’t strong enough to hold the connection.”

Dean stares off in the distance in thought. 

“Wait, you didn’t burn him out?” Sam asks Jack.

“No. I stopped. Derek, he wasn’t strong enough, but he knew someone who was. Kaia, she’s the key.”

Dean’s face goes from thoughtful to sudden determination.

“We gotta go find her,” Dean says with authority. “Now.”

With nothing more needing to be said we race back to the car and take off in the direction we last saw her. Sam gets on his phone and calls the local police department. It seems we are not the only ones looking for Kaia.

“We gotta find her fast,” Sam says when he hangs up.

Dean shakes his head.

“You were right,” he tells his brother. “About mom, you were right. This whole time, we should’ve been looking for her.”

“Dean, I was just hoping. I didn’t know,” Sam confesses. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter. Now that we do know…”

“We find her,” Dean cuts in with a growl. “No matter what it takes.”

“Yep.”

“What’s her name?” I ask.

“Mary,” Sam tells me.

“That’s lovely,” I say with a smile. “My grandmother’s name was Mary. She’s the one that made pie. You know… when I saw her, your Mary, I knew instantly that she’s why I’m here. I’m supposed to help you get her out, to reunite your family.”

“Really?” Sam asks with surprise.

“Yep,” I reply with a warm smile. “I can always tell when I’ve found my objective. Everything just clicks. Getting a family back together is always my favorite kind of mission.”

The silence seems softer with that comment. Then Dean looks over his shoulder briefly at Jack who sits next to me in contemplative quiet.

“Kid,” he says. “You okay?”

He doesn’t reply.

“Jack?” Sam asks as he turns to look at him.

I touch Jack’s hand gently.

“...You thought…” Jack says quietly. “You all thought that I could do that, that I could kill Derek.”

“Jack… We, umm, we didn’t know what happened,” Sam tells him. “We figured maybe it was an accident.”

“Like the security guard,” Jack says softly.

“But Lavinia knew you couldn’t have,” Dean butts in, looking at me in the rearview mirror. “Gave us a bit of a beating for even thinking it… and we deserved it…”

Jack looks at me with sad, but grateful eyes. I smile back and touch his cheek when he takes the hand I had put on his.

“Jack,” Sam calls, getting his attention. “We were worried. You know, when you disappeared, you were in a dark place. And we didn’t know where you were going and…”

“Sam and I thought you might be looking for your dad,” Dean cuts in.

Jack looks at the back of Dean’s head confused. Then something seems to come to him.

“You mean, Lucifer?” 

“Mhm,” Dean says at the same time Sam replies, “Yeah.”

“I was scared. I was upset,” Jack agrees though he shakes his head. “But why would I look for him? He’s… no one to me. You, Castiel… You’re my family.”

Dean nods several times to this statement.

“Yes, we are,” he says faintly. Then Dean perks up. “Finding mom… you did a good thing, kid. You did a real good thing.”

This puts a grin I haven’t often seen on Jack’s face. He’s so chuffed and proud of himself. I can’t help but grin at the sight. Sam seems pleased by this too as he lets a soft smile come to his lips. But it’s all short-lived because Jack suddenly hisses and groans as he clutches his temples. Dean looks back at Jack and slams on the breaks. I grab Jack’s shoulders.

“Jack?! What’s wrong?” I ask in a panic.

“Ah!” he cries in between deep breaths. 

Suddenly, whatever was hurting him stops and he lets go of his head. 

“Jack?” Sam calls.

“That…” Jack says in between gasps. “It was Angel radio. They’ve got Kaia.”

“Of course they do…” Dean says irritably. “Did they tell you where we need to go?”

“Yes,” Jack announces. “Give me your phone, Sam. I’ll put in the address.”

Sam does as he’s told and soon we’re off again heading for some nondescript building in the industrial section of the city. When we arrive we change clothes. Black form fitting pants, strong boots, a simple, soft, long shirt, easy for moving around in, and a black jacket. I grab my sword from the trunk while Sam and Dean grab angel blades. There’s only one angel guarding the outside and it’s not hard for Dean to get the jump on him. With a blade to his throat, the angel leads us inside to where Kaia is being held. We wait quietly in the hallway, listening to the conversation between Kaia and a female angel.

“Your plan sucks,” says a girl’s voice. “They won’t come for me.”

“What do you mean?” asks the voice of a woman.

“I mean, you picked the wrong bait,” Kaia tells the woman. “I’m not the kind of girl folks come for. In this world, I don’t even rank a milk carton. No one is gonna come for me. I’m not white, rich… blonde! No one’s gonna fight for me. I don’t matter.”

“Of course you don’t matter,” says the woman without sarcasm in her tone. “But they think you do. They’ll show. And when they do, we’ll kill them and take the boy.”

“That so?” Dean asks as he pushes the angel under his blade into the room. We follow behind as Dean goes on, “You know, the girl’s right. Your plan does kind of suck.”

“Especially for some of us…” I mutter. Then to the female angel who looks like a soccer mom minus her kids I add, “And of all the worlds I’ve been to, I’ve never once met someone who, ‘didn’t matter.’ An angel should know better.”

She glares at me when I make this comment.

“Give us the girl,” Sam tells her.

“She’s not what we want,” the woman replies. She looks to Jack then, “Jack, I don’t want to hurt you. I want to help you. You should be among your own kind.”

“My kind?!” Jack says in utter disbelief. “The kind that kills people? That kidnaps people?”

“I have to agree, babe,” I tell him. “The angels here are really awful.”

She glares at me again.

“He doesn’t belong with you,” she tells me. Looking back to Jack, she says, “Come with us. Come home.”

Jack looks at us nervously.

“Jack,” I say softly, touching his hand gently. “You are free to make your own choices. Do you want to go with her?”

He looks at me for a moment longer than looks at the angel.

“I am home,” he tells her

For some silly reason, my heart swells at this reply and I grin.

Dean goes to move the blade against the throat of the angel in front of him, but he gets headbutted instead. Then he goes to attack Sam. I pull out Tasuke Mamoru from its sheath calling on his full strength as I do. The blade comes out much bigger than its sheath and I can feel it’s ready for action. However, Jack takes over the show and sends a well aimed, powerful pulse at the female angel which sends her flying through the air. She goes through two other walls, one of which is made of cinder blocks. Then Jack turns to the one that had headbutted Dean, I step out of the way, eager to let him protect his family. 

The angel seems to have picked up the angel blade that Dean dropped and is about to plunge it into Dean’s stomach. Jack sends out another pulse that forces the blade and the angel back. Somehow, the longer Jack focuses on the pulse the blade turns and the point ends up going into the angel’s chest. Jack releases the pulse and the angel’s body goes flying backward. Light flooding out of his eyes, open mouth, and wound. Scorch marks in the shape of wings appear behind him on the wall. 

“That is the weirdest death I’ve ever seen,” I mutter to myself. Then to Jack, “Well done, babe.”

Jack nods to me before he runs to untie Kaia. Dean jumps up then to check on the female angel. 

“I got her!” Dean tells us.

“Are you okay?” Jack asks Kaia.

“No!” she snaps. “What the hell was that?!”

Casually I put Tasuke Mamoru back into its sheath.

“They were angels,” Sam tells her urgently. 

“Bad angels,” Jack corrects.

“Angels?” she says in disbelief.

“Yes, and we’re Hunters. We kill things like them,” Sam explains as he and I come around to face her.

“I’m not really a Hunter,” I add in. “But I’m along for the ride.”

“Right. And he’s the son of Satan,” she says sarcastically.

Jack looks at us with a slight shrug.

“I am, yes,” he replies.

Her eyes are huge as Sam and Jack pull her up to stand. 

“You're insane,” she cries.

“Yeah, the whole world’s insane,” Dean says as he comes back to us. “You get used to it. She took off. She might be back, she might not…”

Dean shrugs his shoulder irritably.

“Yeah, we should move,” Sam says.

We vacate the building the same way we came in, moving quickly to the car.

“We’ll protect you,” Jack tells Kaia.

“I don’t think so,” she replies, shaking her head and trying to back away from him.

“Wait,” Sam says, touching his brother’s shoulder. Turning back to Kaia he says, “Hey, Kaia, I’m sure this is a lot, but…” Sam sighs heavily, his eyebrows scrunch together in concern. “Look, we need you. Okay? My brother and I, our mother… is trapped in a-a… another world. And… and if you could tell Jack where it is, then he can open a door.”

“And we can save her,” Dean jumps in with a glare at Kaia. He looks up with softer eyes to Jack, “So, what’s the play?”

“Derek said there are sacred sites,” Jack tells him. “Places where the walls between worlds are thin, where it’s easy to cross over. I was taking Kaia to the Wind Caves.”

“The Wind Caves?!” she says shocked.

“Let’s roll,” Dean says. 

“No,” Kaia says with finality. 

We all look at her in shock and annoyance.

“We just saved your life in there,” Dean reminds her.

“Thanks, but they only wanted me because of you,” she points to Jack.

“Kaia, we need you to dreamwalk for us,” Jack tells her, his tone close to begging. “To use your gift.”

Her forehead is wrinkled up in disbelief.

“It’s not a gift. It’s a curse,” she tells him. “When Derek walked, he was free. He could go see beautiful things, to worlds that were paradises. I wish it was like that for me, but it’s not. I only go to one place… the Bad Place. It’s just… blood and death and monsters.”

“I’ve been there…” I mutter under my breath.

“Well, it sounds like a lifetime of bad dreams, but…” Dean starts.

“Bad dreams?!” she spits out. She shakes her head and walks over to Sam, Dean, and me. “When I get hurt over there, I don’t wake up sweaty.” Kaia pulls up the sleeves of her jacket to show us her arm, there are claw marks, old ones that are now scars. “I wake up bloody. This scar, it’s not the only one. I’m sorry about your mom, but I can’t help you.”

“Sounds like you’ve got an anchor there,” I muse as I look at her arm. My fingers go to my chin as I think. “That’s the only way to explain why you go there and nowhere else. And why your body gets hurt when your dream body is attacked. You’ve been tethered to this anchor somehow and so you are affected.”

“You heard of something like this before,” Jack asks me. 

“Yeah, but it’s from another world,” I confess. “Those rules probably don’t apply here, at least not entirely. The theory is still sound, but that’s probably it.”

“So, in theory, how could she break the tether?” Jack asks.

“She would need to go there, find the anchor and destroy it. In theory.”

“I’m not doing that,” she says simply.

I look at her with annoyance.

“...All right, fine,” Sam cuts in quickly. “Um… we can find another way. We, um…”

Dean cocks his gun. Everyone’s eyes go wide except for mine and Dean.

“Get in the car,” he orders her.

“Dean…” Sam says concerned.

“Get in the car,” he says again.

“I’m inclined to agree,” I say softly with a low level of irritation. “Get in. The. Car.”

Kaia just continues to stare at him, not sure if she should believe he’ll shoot her or not.

“Get in the damn car!” Dean shouts as he finally raises it to her head.

_ She won’t need legs to dreamwalk… if that doesn’t scare her I’m taking her legs off and dragging her to the fucking car. I am not failing this mission. I’m already going to get in trouble for my door bringing in Ethan and John. I refuse to compound punishment because this girl won’t be helpful. _

Kaia blinks a couple of times before she quickly goes around Dean to the Impala. Dean turns around to look at Sam.

“We’re going to South Dakota,” he says angrily.

Sam’s eyes are worried, his eyebrows knit together, his breath coming heavily as Dean passes by him. I follow after and climb into the front seat after I put my sword in the trunk with the other weapons.

_ I’m not sitting back there with that child. I might lose my temper. _

Dean doesn’t seem to mind and Sam doesn’t say a word as he climbs in. Jack softly gets into the back seat, a small distance from Kaia. Bringing the engine to roaring life, Dean pulls out onto the road and heads for South Dakota. The Wind Caves were once a sacred place for many native tribes, believing that that was where they had crawled out from the underworlds to live in this one. I’m hardly surprised to see that in this world it is a place where the walls of worlds are thin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any rights to Penny Dreadful, X-Men, Supernatural, or Once Upon a Time.  
> Traveler Lavinia, Gersham, the Citadel, and the Council are mine and should not be reproduced without my permission.


	8. Chapter 8

It’s deathly quiet in the cab, Sam chews on his bottom lip while Dean looks angrily out at the night. Leaning against me slightly Sam whispers, “So, now what? We get Kaia to the Wind Caves, and then what? Force her to dreamwalk at gunpoint?”

“If that doesn’t work I can start cutting parts off her until she’s ready to comply,” I whisper back.

“You’d really be okay with that?” Sam says in horror.

I look at him calmly.

“I told you, I’m a monster. Albeit a rather thoughtful one. I’ll help her regrow what I cut off when we’re done.”

His mouth hangs open.

“We get mom back, no matter what,” Dean adds. “Remember?”

Sam presses his lips together in a thin line and looks out the front window again. 

“I’m sorry… about all of this,” Jack tells Kaia in the back. “I was like you, Kaia, afraid of my powers. But it doesn’t have to be like that. You said that you wished that things could’ve been different, and that’s why you reached out to Derek. Derek thought that  _ you _ could help  _ me _ and  _ I _ could help  _ you _ .”

“Why do you keep saying his name?” she snaps. “Derek’s dead because of you.”

“Are you part of some aboriginal tribe?” I ask over my shoulder. “Is that why we can’t say his name anymore?”

“What?” she asks me sharply.

“Some aboriginal tribes believe that when a person dies you are no longer allowed to say their name anymore. You may only refer to them by the other titles they were. Father, brother, friend. So,” I say calmly, “are you from one of those tribes?”

“No,” she says and looks out the window.

“...Five seconds,” Jack says to her.

“What?” she asks.

“Give me five seconds to show you what Derek saw,” Jack replies. “What I saw with him. It wasn’t just the Bad Place. It was… everything. It’s amazing.”

She sits silently for some time.

“...Five seconds,” she finally says.

I hear the light crackle of electricity behind me and then a small gasp from Kaia. She exhales, I hear a smile in it. The crackles stop.

“My powers can be good,” he tells her with pride. “We can do good in this world.”

She exhales sharply and looks out the window. Sam looks at me with concern, I give him a small nod. Looking back out the window I see something moving in the darkness on the road. It’s not an animal… It looks like a car without its lights on. Dean seems to see something too as he squints his eyes and leans forward.

“Car!” I shout.

The lights go on suddenly from that not too distant vehicle. Dean turns the wheel sharply and slams on the break, guiding us onto a side, dirt road. Our back end swerves out of the way just in time. The other car doesn’t hit us. When we come to a complete stop we look at the car that has also slammed on their breaks a good distance down the road.

“Oh, crap!” Dean hisses.

Slamming his foot down on the accelerator we peel out and take off down the dirt road. A short ways down the road, a shipyard greets us looking very much unused. Weeds have grown up and died and grown up again. Several smaller boats are either on their side on the ground or bobbing gently in shallow water. One massive ship has been docked at the end of the very long pier. Dean guides the car to a stop at the pier’s entrance and we all pile out.

“Come on,” Sam says urgently to everyone. “Let’s go, let’s go!”

Dean runs around to the back of the car, pops the trunk, and starts pulling out a bag. He tosses it to Sam and tosses me my sword.

“Hey!” Dean calls to Sam and me, “Get ‘em to the boat!”

He points to the big one. We nod just as Jack starts to cry out in pain. He clutches his head like the last time he was connected to angel radio. I grab him by the arm and start racing toward the pier until he can guide himself again. Sam grabs Kaia.

“Come on! Go, go, go!” he shouts to her.

Sam shines a flashlight ahead for us and we make it into the open hull. Sam drops his bag and pulls out a can of red spray paint. Then he gets busy painting some kind of strange symbol on a wall.

“What’s happening?” Kaia asks.

“Don’t worry,” Jack tells her. “We’ll be fine.”

Just then Dean comes racing in.

“We’re screwed,” he says. “There’s too damn many of ‘em.” Dean aims his flashlight at a set of stairs and shouts, “Come on, we gotta go. Up!”

As a group, we move swiftly up them. Sam paints different symbols as we go.

“How long will this warding hold?” Dean asks his brother.

“I don’t know,” replies Sam.

Dean gives a grunt and we keep moving. This boat looks like it was for entertaining people, something like a lake ferry. When we get to the top floor we find ourselves in a spacious room. I note the overturned tables, stacked chairs, and raised platform at the center of the floor. Sam starts working on another warding symbol.

“Hey, Dean, maybe if we let them in, and then blast them all away…” Sam says.

“No, they get in here, we’re dead,” Dean replies.

“Not if I kill them,” I reply, clutching my sword hilt.

“Did you not hear me,” Dean growls. “There are too many.”

“How many is too many?” I ask with exasperation.

“Six.”

“That’s not many!” I snort.

“They will kill you!” he snaps.

“And then I’ll come back to life,” I remind him as I start to walk around him.

“No!” he shouts angrily, grabbing my arm and yanking me back.

“Tasuke Mamoru and I can handle your silly excuse for angels…”

Dean grabs me by the shoulders hard and bends down to look in my eyes.

“You are not going down there and that’s final.”

“You’re not in charge of me,” I remind him. “I am actually in charge of you. Why are you acting like this?”

Dean grits his teeth but doesn’t answer. I look at him curiously.

“If Jack and Kaia can get that rift open we are going to need you here to help fight in Apocalypse World,” Sam tells me. “What’s happening over here won’t matter anymore.”

I sigh and roll my eyes.

“You two are like hens,” I whisper. Dean lets go of me and I turn to Jack, “Get a move on, sweetie, or I’ll have to upset Dean and deal with your terrible relatives.”

“I’ll try,” Jack tells me. “But they hit me with angel radio again.”

The boat suddenly shakes violently.

“What in the blasted hell was that?!” I shout with wide eyes, arms flailing. 

Another violent tremor comes.

“What if something goes wrong?” Kaia asks fearfully.

“Something already is going wrong,” Dean tells her as another tremor hits. “Sorry that you got dragged into this fight, kid.” He says to Kaia, a bit more softly. “But you gotta do this.”

Jack stands beside the girl looking concerned at the situation going on around us.

“Jack, go!” I tell him urgently.

Jack and Kaia nod then he runs to fetch a chair. He places Kaia in it and positions himself behind her. Another tremor and we all stagger.

“Are you ready?” Jack asks Kaia.

“No. Let’s go,” she tells him.

_ Bang! _ The boat rumbles this time. Whatever they are doing downstairs they are getting closer.

Jack puts his hands at her temples and light flows from his finger to her skin, illuminating the veins underneath. He tilts his head back and opens his now glowing eyes.

“Okay, I’m there,” she says in a whimper. “I’m in the Bad Place.”

“Let go,” Jack tells her.

“I can’t,” she cries.

“Yes. You can,” he encourages her. 

I move swiftly to her and take her hand. Her fingers are trembling as they wrap about mine tightly. The boat shakes violently again, the rumbling echoes through the corridors. Suddenly her face goes calm and she leans back against Jack’s stomach. The boy seems to be looking around for something, though I doubt he’s seeing the room we’re in. Another bang and more rumbling follow it.

“There,” he says urgently. “That one!”

I smile and squeeze Kaia’s hand before I let go and position myself next to the brothers. Sam goes to look down the hall we came through. He calls us to him urgently.

“You gotta come see this.”

We come to where he had put the second to the last warding and watch as it melts with each bang and tremor. Dean looks back to Jack and Kaia.

“Jack, now!” he shouts.

“I see her!” he whispers sorrowfully.

The bangs are picking up in pace now and we are having a hard time keeping on our feet under us. The last warding is melting away.

“They're almost through,” Sam says.

Jack gasps and shakes his head.

“No!” he says. “Focus.”

Kaia grunts.

“I’m losing it!” she cries. 

“Almost! Almost!” Jack shouts.

Kaia lets out a sudden scream of severe pain, her eyes open wide and light envelopes the room. My body tingles for a moment and then I hit something hard. It smells damp and mossy, a strong earthy smell followed by blood is everywhere. I open my eyes to see a forest with a bluish tint to the atmosphere all around me. Sitting up I look at Sam and Dean not too far away from me. Dean’s the next to open his eyes and look around.

“Sam,” he taps his brother on the shoulder.

“Huh… Yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” Sam replies as he opens his eyes.

They quickly look around and spot me as I stand up, brushing wet leaves off my body.

“Where’s everyone else?” Sam asks.

I look around and shrug.

“Not with us,” I reply.

“Come on,” Dean says as he taps his brother’s chest and puts his angel blade into his jacket. “Let’s go see if we can find them.”

He waves his hand to me to come, I nod and we start walking. Some distance away from where we landed we see a hole two feet deep in the ground, while they opt to jump into it, I examine its perimeter. The shape is a little familiar to me and I bite back a gasp before I look around the tree line on high alert. This is a giant footprint from some kind of reptilian creature. 

Sam and Dean would have to lay head to foot three times over just to touch from the heel to its longest toe.

“Where the hell are we?” Dean asks as he looks around.

“Somewhere we really don’t want to be,” I say softly as I urge them with my hand to get out.

They look at me quizzically. I look around at the area we’re in, it’s a clearing. We’re easy pickings, we’ve got to get into the trees again.

“Get out of there, now,” I whisper. “We need to get into the trees immediately.”

“Why, do you see something…” Sam starts to say.

A distant roar and heavy footsteps answer him. They scramble over to me and pull themselves out. I grab them by the sleeves and run for the trees and underbrush. Pulling them down with me, we hide. Silently we listen. The footsteps don’t seem to be coming closer and I don’t hear any other movements around us.

“This is not a nice place,” I whisper. “That was a footprint you were in just now. Something big and probably scaly. I doubt that that is all we need to be concerned about…”

“You been here before?” Dean whispers back.

“Nope,” I reply, shaking my head. “But I’ve been around enough to know what danger sounds like and what kind of tracks it makes.” 

“Right,” Dean says. “First thing we gotta do is try to find food.”

“Yeah and shelter,” Sam says.

“Possibly not a good plan,” I tell Sam. “We have no idea where these things move around regularly or what other nasty things this territory has. We need to be alert and not stay in one spot for more than a couple hours.”

They nod in response to my observation, then we move quietly through the forest. 

Two days pass in this world, dodging the sound of something threatening and big, we’ve been staying hidden. There has been no sign of Jack and Kaia. 

We’ve just found a slow-moving lizard-like creature and we built a fire to cook it over. When it seems to be properly cooked Dean grabs up a leg and takes a bite. Mulling the meat around in his mouth he shrugs.

“No, don’t… don’t tell me it tastes like chicken,” Sam says with displeasure.

I take some meat from the body and put it in my mouth.

“...No, Sam, it’s a  _ lizard _ ,” Dean replies with irritation. “It tastes like a  _ lizard _ .”

I snort a laugh at Sam’s groan of revulsion.

“It’s not bad,” I reply. “At least it’s not oily.”

Sam looks like he might throw up.

“We really gotta get moving. Keep looking for that door,” Sam says.

Dean spits something out and keeps eating.

“Yeah, if there  _ is  _ a door,” replies Dean.

“There is,” I say casually. “If there weren’t, my door would have come here. One of the foundational rules is that whatever story or world a traveler is in, it’s door must be there too. I can still feel a connection to my door from here, so that rift must be open as well.”

“Last time we opened one it stayed open,” Sam says.

“Yeah, for a few hours,” Dean replies in exasperation. “We’ve been here for what? Two days and some change? I mean, look, sis, I hope you’re right. I really do. But if you’re not… I mean no one back home even knows where to start looking for us.”

I roll my eyes and keep eating.

“So, what are you saying?” Sam asks.

“I’m saying…” Dean holds up the lizard leg. “Eat up!”

“The rift  _ is _ open,” I tell him again.

“You did say your door was malfunctioning,” Sam says.

“It’s acting up, sure,” I reply and nod. “But it could be throwing a tantrum or it could be something else. It cannot, however, betray its foundational order. That would be like taking the bones out of someone's body and expecting them to live like everyone else. A door cannot disobey that rule.”

“Your door throws tantrums?” asks Dean skeptically. 

I laugh lightly and nod.

“Kind of,” I reply. “That’s its way of communicating… I have a theory that the A.I. is actually very sentient too.”

“Really? Why?” Sam asks. 

“Because it knows what I like, how I am, what my preferences are, and it tries to accommodate,” I reply. “Well, when it’s not grumpy with me.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asks.

“It knows that when I go to a new story I prefer to walk out into the place I’ll be spending the most time. So, when, in the last story, my door not only spit me out a couple of miles away from it and positioned itself on the exterior of a house I hardly ever visited, I was completely baffled.”

There is a sudden roar and more thudding steps a little too close for comfort. We all look in that direction of the forest. 

“That sound closer to you?” Dean asks us with annoyance.

“Yeah,” Sam and I say together.

Grabbing up my sword and a chunk of the lizard I stand up.

“What do you think it is?” Sam asks.

Leaving the fire going we take off into the woods again.

“Let’s not find out,” Dean says as he takes a bite of his lizard leg.

“I have some ideas,” I say as we pick up the pace to a run. “Top on my list would be something akin to a dragon. A big one.”

“Screw that!” Dean says as he runs next to me. 

I hear something behind us, it's soft footed. Glancing back I see a metal spear poking out from behind a tree. 

_ We’re being followed… _

Hours go by and we’ve managed to get away from the big beastie. I still get the feeling we’re being followed though. I’m not hearing anything or seeing anything, so I don’t speak my suspicions out loud. 

“Dean,” Sam says. “I don’t think we’re just in a different world. I think it’s a different universe.”

I smile at his cleverness while Dean stumbles in wet mud and shakes his foot off.

“Yeah, well, this universe sucks,” Dean replies.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees.

A sudden rustle from ahead of us makes us stop.

“I was right!” I hiss. “Something’s been following us.”

“What?” Dean snaps. “Why didn’t you say anything.”

“Because I didn’t have any proof and so I wasn’t sure,” I reply.

Something is at my back. I can feel its presence, its eyes watching us. Sam and Dean seem to feel it too as they turn to look.

_ Whatever was holding that spear must be assumed to have some base level of intelligence. _

I turn slowly just as a cloaked figure, humanoid in shape, starts striking Dean and Sam at inhuman speed with the club side of its spear. Just as I go to grab my sword from its spot on my back it takes a swing at me and knocks me out with ease. 

When I come to, I’m being dragged by my bound hands through the forest to a bone littered clearing. The thing that attacked us drops me next to Dean, who is still unconscious. It turns to Dean, wraps some rope around his already bound hands, and hoists him up. When he looks to be on his feet the cloaked figure binds him to a tree. Then it goes to Sam who is just a couple of feet away. I take this moment to silently and quickly get up to run away. After I remove the rope from my wrists I climb up into some trees and double back to watch as the figure realizes that I’m gone. It doesn’t say anything or even seem to get angry. Instead, it seems to decide to rest on a large skull a ways off. 

It’s possible it plans to hunt for me later or maybe use Sam and Dean as bait. I decide to make myself comfy and watch what this thing plans to do. If it gets any cheeky ideas I’ll pull Tasuke Mamoru out. At this range, I can slice right through it. But I need to know what designs it has in mind for off-world visitors. 

Slowly night comes and Dean seems to come to, just as the sky goes dark.

“Sam?” he calls. “Sammy!” Sam grunts then inhales sharply. “Hey,” Dean says softly to him. He looks around then for me, “Lavinia? Vinnie?!”

They strain against their bonds, wondering what happened, and where I am. About this time is when the cloaked figure comes into view for them. It stops at another massive, car sized, skull just a ways off from the brothers.

“Hey, yo!” Dean growls. “Darth Dickwad”

It doesn’t seem to care anything about what Dean wants to say as It takes the club end of its spear and slams it into the skull. A loud  _ clang, clang _ sounds hollowly. The figure does it again several more times before it turns and walks off.

“What the hell was that?” Dean asks.

“What was that for?” Sam echoes.

A roar sounds in the distance.

_ It was a dinner bell. That person is feeding the big nasty. _

Low growls follow the roar. Dean seems to realize where he is and what’s just happened.

“I think it just rang the dinner bell,” he says.

The sound of heavy, big footsteps comes to us in the distance. Each step brings it closer. I look around for the figure and discover that it’s not in the area. Quickly, I descend the tree and run to the brothers, yanking my sword out, calling upon its full strength as I do. I appear out of the trees suddenly, which causes Dean to jerk in surprise. Relief washes over his face.

“Hi, sweeties,” I whisper as I expertly cut his binding in one swift and precise motion.

A noise from behind him has me whirling around with Tasuke Mamoru poised to defend. The growling and thudding are much closer now, I can feel the vibrations in the ground. Just then a blonde girl who looks like biker Barbie accompanied by Kaia suddenly appears through the trees.

“You’re still alive!” Kaia says to us in amazement.

“Hmm,” is my reply as I turn and cut through Sam’s bindings. “Who is your friend and where have you been? Are you alright? Where’s Jack?”

“Claire?” Dean says when he sees the blonde girl.

“Hey, boys,” she says with familiarity. 

“Ah, so, an actual friend,” I say relieved.

“Hey,” Dean says dumbfounded. “How did you get here?”

“The door, it’s still open,” Claire replies. “For now.”

“Where’s Jack?” Sam asks Kaia.

“I think he’s in the other place with your mom,” she replies to Sam.

“Of course,” I grumble. “She answers you…”

“Maybe because you threatened to cut off parts of my body,” Kaia tells me shortly.

“I also promised to help you regrow them,” I reply with an eye roll. The ground vibrates harder now and I look to Dean. “We need to move.”

“Lead the way to the door,” Dean tells Kaia.

Kaia, alongside Claire, takes off through the trees to a small clearing. There in the distance is what looks like a rip of golden light hanging in the air. We stop suddenly when we hear branches snap directly behind us. I’m a good distance away from Kaia when she dashes over to Claire and pushes her out of the way in time to be impaled by the now familiar spear. 

Sam and Dean turn swiftly, pulling their angel blades out. I hold my sword at the ready. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kaia reach out and grab Claire’s hand. She grunts and then goes still. At that moment the rustle of trees is accompanied by a terribly loud and close set of growls and snarls. I look up to where the animal sounds are coming from. Two red orbs, high above the treetops stare down at us. It looms closer, bending to get down to us, making its shape more obvious. It’s almost humanoid. 

“Not a dragon,” I murmur as I step forward. 

Turning the hilt in my hands a fraction, I call up the power I know the sword possesses. It makes a micro twitch in my hands before the energy rushes out around the blade, kicking up a fierce wind. My curls dance wildly for a second before I pull the blade back. Then in a split second, I slash Tasuke Mamoru at the giant monster coming closer to us. A powerful force streaks from the slash, up, cutting the tops of trees as it makes its way to the broad torso of the beast. There is a loud ear splitting scream before the upper part of its torso slides off, to the side while its lower part disappears into the trees with an earth shuddering thud. All that is left to suggest that it was even there is a straight, angled line of cut trees. I look to the cloaked figure who seems to be taken slightly aback by me now.

“Grab, Claire,” I tell the brothers. “Get through the rift.”

They don’t need any further prompting. In a matter of seconds, they are through, I make a mad dash for it too. The rift flashes and we come out running just in time for it to close. Claire falls to the ground crying ‘no!’ as a woman with short dark hair in her late forties comes running over to gather the girl up in her arms. Three other women come around then too. I quickly glance at Sam and Dean to see that they seem to know these women. Letting out a sigh I put Tasuke Mamoru back into its sheath and plop down into a nearby chair. The woman holding Claire looks at Sam and Dean meaningfully. Sam shakes his head sorrowfully.

_ Ah… it seems Kaia finally found people who would miss and fight for her. Poor baby. _

I can’t say that I cared much for the girl. But I really didn’t wish her harm. 

“No!” Claire sobs as she tries to push the woman’s arms away.

“Shh,” the woman tells her as she cradles Claire closer. “It’s going to be okay.”

I realize I recognize her voice as she talks softly to the blonde girl. This is Jody, the one who helped us find Jack and by extension, Kaia. This is a rather sad realization. Now we have neither, again. I kick at the ground in irritation.

“Damn it,” I breathe. 

_ Well, if Jack is with Mary then he’ll keep her safe until we can get to them. But how the hell are we going to do that?! _

Claire cries herself to sleep while Jody holds her. Eventually, we all head down to vehicles, Dean carrying Claire to Jody’s truck. Before we load up, Sam introduces me to the other women.

“Lavinia,” he says. “This is Sheriff Jody Mills, she’s another hunter and a sheriff in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.” He indicates the woman I had assumed was her. Then he points to a curvaceous thick woman with blonde hair and a kind smile. “This is sheriff Donna Hanscum, also a hunter, from Hibbing, Minnesota. This is Patience Turner, she’s a powerful psychic.” Sam indicates a dark skinned girl who looks rather shell shocked. “And this is Alex Jones, she and Claire are Jody’s adopted daughters.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” I say as I give a deep bow.

“Oh! Are ya from Japan?” Donna asks me with a grin as she gives a slight bow back.

_ Her Minnesota accent is thick! _

“No,” I laugh at myself. “I spent some time there on a recent mission. Bowing has become a bit of a habit now.”

“I like it,” she says with a big grin.

“Thank you!” I laugh again. “Minnesota, my grandfather was from up there. Minneapolis, I believe.”

“We could be cousins,” she says cheerfully. “Hiya!”

She gives me a little wave which I happily return.

“I wish we were,” I laugh. “I get the feeling I would adore being related to you.” Then I turn to the girl named Patience. “As for you, please, for the love of all things green, be especially careful. Psychics, real ones, are hunted creatures by far too many nasty things.”

“Uh, Patience found that out the hard way,” Sam tells me softly. “A wraith came after her after it killed her grandmother.”

“Bastard,” I spit out. “I’m glad he didn’t succeed.”

“We are too,” Jody says with a kind smile to Patience. “Now, how about we head back to my house and get food and showers? Then we can send you guys on your way.”

“Sounds good,” Sam says with a smile. 

Less than an hour later we are at Jody’s cozy place in Sioux Falls. Once we are cleaned and fed we make our way out of the garage. The house was trashed internally by some foul creatures from that monster world. The women who were waiting for us on this side of the rift fought and killed them to ensure us a safe return.

“Bye, guys,” Sam says to Alex and Patience as we walk past them, piling splintered wood into a trash can.

They smile and wave back at us.

“You know, I tried talking to her,” Jody tells Sam about Claire.

“Yeah, she’s, uh… she seems pretty shut down,” Sam replies.

Jodi nods as she says, “Claire’s gonna need a lot of time, she and Kaia got really close.”

“Well, when she is ready to hear it…” Sam says.

“You tell her, ‘thank you,’ from us,” Dean cuts in.

“I’m just glad that Kaia finally found someone who cared about her,” I say sincerely.

Jody nods.

“Hey, Jody, that rift was open for a while,” Sam says warningly. “More of those things may have come through.” 

“Now we’ve seen some freaks,” Dean adds. “But over there it’s a whole new world of bad.”

Without missing a beat, Jody replies, “We will handle it. Come on. You guys take care of the  _ world _ . We got Sioux Falls covered.”

She smiles, which causes Dean to smirk.

“Damn right you do,” he says as he goes to give her a hug.

When Dean pulls back Sam goes in for the next one. Dean heads for the car and starts it up just as Sam lets her go. She grins and extends her arms out to me then. 

“Oh!” I say with a surprised giggle. “Yes, please!” 

We embrace.

“You’re family now too,” she tells me. “Take care of our boys.”

I pull back and wink at her. 

“For as long as I’m here, you can bet they are in good hands,” she winks back and I nod to her before I turn to the car.

She waves and shouts bye to us as we pull out of her driveway and onto the street. I stretch out on the back seat, kicking my shoes off onto the floorboard. 

“I missed sleeping in the car,” I mutter as I close my eyes.

“Right?” Dean says with a chuckle.

“Something I gotta know,” Sam says. “How did you do that with your sword?”

“Yeah, I mean you weren’t anywhere near that monster and you hacked him in half as well as the tops of the trees!” Dean exclaims.

“I told you,” I say, my eyes still closed. “Tasuke Mamoru isn’t a regular sword. Remember, I once used it to destroy a mansion. The power it holds can be harnessed to do amazing feats on a ginormous scale. Such as slaying a huge, Godzilla-sized monster.”

“That’s an impressive weapon,” says Sam.

“Hmm,” is the only reply I give him before I drift off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any rights to Penny Dreadful, X-Men, Supernatural, or Once Upon a Time.  
> Traveler Lavinia, Gersham, the Citadel, and the Council are mine and should not be reproduced without my permission.


	9. Chapter 9

Several days go by, we end up having to go up to Stillwater, Nebraska to help Donna search for her abducted niece. That was a mess and a half. Seems ‘smarter’ monsters in this world have set up a system for buying and selling human parts on a monster version of eBay. Donna’s poor niece was an unfortunate victim of this disgusting system. Fortunately, we managed to get to her before she was hurt more than a couple of scrapes and bruises. That kid is going to need so much therapy. 

When we get back to the bunker from that case we hunker down and get to work trying to figure out how to open another rift, this time to Apocalypse World. We search the archives within the bunker’s walls. Books like Principia Phantasmagogia, Archive of the Unnatural Occurrences, and Jour et Nuit, become the tomes we pour hours into reading. I end up having to mediate several arguments between Sam and Dean about the hopelessness of the situation. Jack was our way to the other world, with him gone we have no way, as far as we know, to get over there now.

Dean decides he wants to go on a beer run and asks if I need anything. 

“Actually, I was thinking about dinner and I’ll run to the store while we’re in town.”

“You’re gonna cook again?” Dean asks, his eyes lighting up with joy.

“If you’re okay with that,” I reply. “I don’t often get to cook, but I always enjoyed it.”

“Yes!” Dean grins. “What are you gonna make? Something with lots of meat?”

“I was thinking of a three-bean chili and a salad?” I say as I look at Sam.

“Sounds delicious,” Sam says with a smile.

“You gotta get Fritos to go with it,” Dean tells me. “And lots of cheese.”

“Yes, sir,” I reply with a salute.

He extends his arm to me, which I take and we head to the garage. He and I go separate ways when we get in town. After he gets beer, Dean says he’ll come find me at the grocery store. However, twenty minutes is all it takes me to get groceries. He still hasn’t shown up so I decide to head to where he parked the car. When I get there I find that it’s gone! Dean and the car are nowhere to be seen. There are some girls a couple yards from me chatting while they lean against a beat up car. Setting my bags down I tap my communication device on my forearm. 

“Call: Dean Winchester,” I tell it. 

There is a ringing tone before the click of him picking up.

“Hey!” he tells me with a giddy tone. 

“...Hey,” I reply suspiciously. “Where are you? I’m done shopping and at the parking lot where we left the car.”

“I had to run back to the bunker,” Dean tells me. “I’m on my way back now. HEY!” he shouts with excitement. “If you’re in the parking lot have you met the woman I’m in love with? Her name's Jamie.”

I look over to the only other people in the parking lot other than myself. 

“Does she have long blonde hair, pretty face?” I ask.

“Yes! That’s her!” 

“Hmm… Nope, we haven’t been introduced. When do you think you’ll be back here so that you can do the honors?”

“Another five minutes,” he tells me with glee. “Aww, man! You’re gonna love her. I know I do.”

“Yes…” I reply as I watch Jamie and the other girl who looks like she might be a sister out the corner of my eye. “I can hardly wait. Drive safe, we want you to make it back to her in one piece.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s cool, I’m walking. Bye!”

I hang up and grab my grocery bags to move around the corner. Just out of sight. They don’t seem to have paid me any attention as I listen to them chatter about a Grimoire and how stupid, though cute, Dean Winchester is. The other girl, Jenny, seems to be more in love with the car. Can’t blame her, it's a cherry sixty-seven Chevy Impala. They mention something about making a call when Dean gets back. 

That’s right about the time Dean comes walking toward me with a black and gold book in his arms, looking like a puppy. He grins at me and waves.

“Hey!” he cheers at me. “You didn’t have to wait over here. You could have gone and introduced yourself.”

“Hmm…” I reply softly as I look at this very obviously different Dean. “Well, how awkward would it have been if I had without you to explain that I’m just a coworker? I would hate for your love to get the wrong idea and get mad at you.”

“Aww! Dude, Vinnie, you’re the best,” Dean grins at me again. “Come on!”

I nod, picking up my grocery bags and walking along next to him up to the two girls. They look at us startled for a moment, Jenny, seems disappointed.

“Here it is!” he tells them as he holds up the book. 

“...Thanks… Who is your friend?” Jamie asks him with the fakest grin.

“Hi!” I reply enthusiastically as I set my bags down and extend a hand. Neither girl takes it and I move on unperturbed. “I’m Lavinia, I work with Dean. He told me he had met…”

“Met the love of my life!” Dean interrupts.

“Yes. That,” I say without breaking my smile or enthusiastic tone. “It’s just the best news I’ve heard in a long while.”

She eyeballs me with obvious dislike, her lips pushing together as she eyes me up and down. Something behind her catches my eye and I realize it’s a sledgehammer covered in old blood and meat. 

“Oh…” I smile coyly, looking from both girls to Dean. “What lovely book did you bring these sweet ladies?”

“The Black Grimoire,” Dean tells me proudly.

“Of course you did, you’re so thoughtful,” I say as I pat his shoulder.

He grins at me as he starts to hand over the book. At that same moment, a familiar engine comes roaring up, tires screeching as the backend drifts. Sam stops a couple of feet from Dean and I and slams on the breaks, turning off the car. Jenny grabs the book from Dean just as Jamie raises up the sledgehammer to strike Dean. 

“Get away from him,” Sam barks as he gets out of the car. Cocking his gun and pointing it at Jamie, he comes closer and says, “You heard me.”

Just then Dean charges at his brother shouting about not pointing a gun at Jamie. I turn then and make a grab for the book. Jenny pulls back as Jamie swings her hammer at my shoulder. I’ve moved forward enough by then that instead of hitting my shoulder the sledgehammer connects with my shoulder blade and some ribs. Luckily she isn’t very strong but those bones are no doubt fractured. This doesn’t stop me from standing. However, I am slammed into the side of their car. They take this moment to jump into it and drive off, not caring that I am rolling off of it as they tear out of the parking lot. Sam seems to have pulled a small red bag out of Dean’s pocket and chucks it far away. This, however, does not stop Dean from trying to chokehold his brother to sleep.

“I-I’m sorry,” Dean tells his brother. “I just love her so much!”

“Dean!” I shout at him as I push myself to stand, my bones mending quickly.

Just then the two brothers get zapped by a bolt of purple lightning and the little red bag bursts into flames. Dean’s face changes instantly as he realizes what he’s doing. He quickly lets go of his brother and looks around. The sound of heels clicking on the asphalt greets us before the sight of a red haired woman in a lovely violet outfit appears. She looks at the brothers with eyes like a pleased cat.

“Hello, boys,” she says in a thick Irish accent.

“Fantastic,” I mutter. “Another witch.”

She turns to me then.

“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure. I’m Rowena MacLeod,” she tells me as she extends a dainty hand to me. “And you are?”

I look at her skeptically.

“Forgive my rudeness,” I tell her politely as I refuse to take her hand. “There aren’t many witches I trust and as I understand it you are supposed to be very much dead. Ah, and my name is Lavinia.”

“No last name, dear?” she asks in a tone that indicates she cares.

“I don’t need one,” I tell her simply.

A beeping comes from my communication device just then and I look down at my forearm. 

[2001, June 20th. Los Vegas, New Mexico. The Bellagio Casino. 4 Hours available, 1 to departure.]

“Damn it,” I hiss. 

“The obvious aside,” Sam says looking at Rowena. He looks back at me, “What’s the matter?”

“I’ve just been given a side mission,” I tell him as I grab up the grocery bags. “I need to get to the bunker immediately and go.”

“Wait, what?” Dean looks at me with something almost like panic. “You’re leaving us?”

“No, not really,” I say as I open the back passenger door and put the bags in. “I have a side mission that needs attention. I’ll be there for no more than four hours and then I’ll return here. You guys need to figure out what you’re doing with Rowena and about that book. I know what a Grimoire is and I don’t think those little psycho Daisy Mae’s need to be in possession of it. In, let’s go! I’ve only got an hour to get ready and get to the door.”

This seems to stir the brothers who quickly grab up Rowena and push her into the car. In less than five minutes we are back at the bunker. Sam and Dean collect the groceries with the promise that they will put them away for me while I run to my room. After I do my makeup and hair for the early two-thousands, I collect a black and white dress from my duffle, black stilettos, and matching jewelry. When I’m finally put together for the time period I check my arm for the time. 

[15 minutes. 34 seconds.]

“Good,” I mutter as I make for my door. 

In the library, Sam and Dean sit at a table while Rowena pours some drinks for them. The brothers perk up when they see me come in.

“I’ll be back in no more than four hours,” I remind them. “Regardless of whether you are here or not, I will make that chili. Okay?” 

They look at me with a concerned and disappointed expression.

“Yeah…” Dean replies sadly.

“Okay,” Sam adds with a similar tone.

“Be careful,” Dean tells me.

I laugh and nod to him as I check my dress.

“It’s Los Vegas in two-thousand one. Only thing to worry about there is losing too much money at the slots. If anyone should be careful, it’s you guys.”

I blow them a kiss and head for my door.

“That dress is lovely,” Rowena tells me as I walk past her.

I smile at her as I pass.

“Thank you. I was thinking the same of your outfit when we first met. Seems we have excellent taste.”

“It seems we do,” she smiles with a Cheshire cat-like face.

I wink knowingly at her. In no time I’m through my door, pulling it shut behind me.

When I get back the bunker is empty. This mission wasn’t as difficult as some, though I now smell like stale tobacco smoke and alcohol. After I send a message to Sam and Dean that I’m back I go to take a shower and wash my clothes. As soon as the washing machine is loaded with dirty clothes I head for the kitchen to begin working on chili. In sweat pants and an oversized shirt, I start cutting onions and sauteeing them while I cook two pounds of meat. When everything is cooked I pour the rest of the ingredients into a big soup pot, add seasonings, and set it to simmer on low. I’m a big believer that chili should simmer for hours, enhancing the flavors and getting thicker. While it does I get back to work reading through the books we currently have out in our hopes to open the rift again. Many hours after I’ve gotten back I hear the door open to the bunker and heavy, shuffling footsteps making their way to the kitchen.

“Lavinia?” I hear Sam’s voice call.

“In the kitchen!” I call back. “How did it go?”

I hear a groan which makes me turn back to look at the door. Dean, who is being supported by Sam, is limping.

“What the blasted hell happened?!” I cry as I stand up and reach for him.

“Nothing as fun as a couple hours in Vegas,” Dean assures me as he waves his hand dismissively. “Witches with hammers… who knew?”

I narrow my eyes at his knee as he touches it lightly. I nod and indicate for him to take a seat. At a sprint, I go get my first aid kit. Pulling out a syringe I go back to the kitchen, tying a tourniquet around my arm as I go. When I get back into the kitchen I push the needle into a big vein. Sam and Dean’s eyes go wide.

“What the hell are you doing?” Dean asks me as he applies ice to his propped up knee.

“I need you in tip-top shape,” I tell him as I take the tourniquet off and pump my fingers a bit before pulling the plunger back slowly. “I’m a universal donor thanks to my genetic modifications. Also, there is the whole healing factor in there too. So, a little shot of my blood into your leg will have your knee as good as new.”

“You’re going to give Dean a transfusion?” Sam says in disbelief.

“A hammer to the knee could hobble him,” I say watching the blood level slowly rise in the tube. “Wouldn’t you prefer he be healthy? Or have you always had a desire to call him, Hop-along Cassaday?”

Dean snorts at the name and seems to relax.

“Well, I guess…” he says with a smile as he sips at his beer, “I say bring on the mutant juice!”

I roll my eyes with a smile as I pull the syringe out of my arm and go over to him. 

“You’re going to need to get your pants out of the way,” I tell him.

“You mean… take ‘em off?” Dean says narrowing his eyes coyly. 

“Unless you’d prefer I just cut them off at the knee.”

“I like these jeans…” he says sadly.

With a sigh and a shrug, he stands gingerly and starts to undo them. As he pushes them down, gently going over his hurt knee, he stands back up straight with red boxer briefs flashing me.

“Don’t get any ideas,” he says playfully.

“No promises,” I reply with a smile as I motion for him to sit back down.

With his leg back up on the other seat next to him I squat down and examine his knee. It’s black and blue, purple pools of blood under the skin have blossomed around the knee cap. I nod to myself and decide to place the needle just above where the bruising is visible. Finding the femoral artery’s general location I expertly push the needle in. Dean jerks slightly and hisses at the little pinch of pain. With steady pressure I push the plunger down, depositing my blood into his thigh. Once it’s in there I pull the needle out and gently put my finger to the small puncture. I look up at Dean’s face and give him a smile. His eyes are watching me with interest and wonder. There’s something else there in the twinkles, affection. I clear my throat and look back at his knee to avoid his eyes.

Sam has come around now to see what’s going on with Dean’s knee. I take my finger off his leg to reveal no hole. I rub it lightly just to make sure and nod to myself. His thigh is warm, the skin and leg hair is soft. Clearing my throat again, I stand then and take the syringe over to the sink. I rinse it out and set it aside to disinfect later. 

“Whoa!” Sam gasps. “Dean are you seeing this?!”

“Holy shit, dude!” Dean laughs. “The swellings already gone and…”

“The pooled up blood is getting smaller.”

I smile and go to check on the chili. While they marvel at Dean’s remarkable recovery I start making the salad.

“Is this what always happens to you?” Sam asks me as I throw chopped tomatoes into the salad.

“Pretty much,” I reply casually. “How my body was, scars, tattoos, so on, before I was experimented on, my healing factor makes sure everything regenerates like it was before. Your knee, because of that, will be like it was in your prime and most healthy.”

“How does it feel?” Sam asks. “I mean it still looks bruised, but?”

“It feels great, actually,” Dean replies in awe. “This is amazing!”

I smile as I bring the big bowl of salad over to the table along with a bag of Fritos. Then I go back and fill up three bowls of chili, which I then turn around and bring over to the brothers, placing my bowl in an empty seat. The last thing I collect is shredded cheese and sour cream from the fridge. Sam gets the appropriate cutlery and brings over an open beer for me while Dean pulls his pants back up. I gratefully accept the beer as Sam sits down.

“This might be one of the best days of my life,” Dean tells me. “I get my knee better than new, homemade chili with Fritos and a ton of cheese… Whoo!”

“I’m so glad that I can be a part of that day,” I laugh as I pass him the bag of Fritos. “Now, where is Rowena?”

“She went on her merry,” Dean says around a mouth full of cheese and chili.

“Turns out she was behind the Black Grimoire leaving the bunker,” Sam tells me.

“No surprise there,” Dean mutters.

“And how was it that she was back from the dead?” I ask while blowing on my steaming spoon.

“Same charm she helped Ketch with,” Sam says off-handedly. 

“I see…” I muse. “I suppose if I was free to make choices for my life I wouldn’t mind living forever either. Now, was there a particular reason she wanted the book? Oh, and what happened to Jamie and Jenny?”

“They, uh… Rowena cast a spell on them after they had their zombie mom attack her. They ended up killing each other,” Sam says with distaste. “Rowena wanted the book to help unbind her full magical ability. She’s scared of Lucifer.”

“Naturally,” I reply thoughtfully. “He must have done some very horrible things to her before he killed her.”

“He showed her his true face,” Sam informs me with a tone that indicates he knows what that feels like.

“Did you have to see it too?” I ask softly as I look at him.

He nods and clears his throat before he puts a forkful of salad into his mouth. I lean a shoulder against him comfortingly.

“Whatever her reason…” Dean says as he pulls the book over to him and rifles through the pages. “We didn’t let her keep it…” He goes quiet and furrows his eyebrows in annoyance. “Sam… we didn’t let her have anything… did we?” Sam doesn’t reply. “Rowena is not our friend, right?” Dean growls with narrowed eyes and a raised eyebrow to his brother.

“Yeah, I know that.”

“Mhmm…” Dean nods and spins the book around to face us. 

There is a page ripped out. Dean touches the leftover pieces.

“Then what’s that?” he asks. Sam sighs and twitches uncomfortably. “You gave her the page. She got in your head, man.”

“She didn’t get in my head.”

“Look, what happened to Rowena was messed up, okay? But you just let the deadliest witch in the world walk away with a page from this book.”

“Yeah, and if Rowena breaks bad, I will hunt her down myself and put a bullet in her. I will, Dean.” Dean presses his teeth together and looks down annoyed. “But if she’s right, and if she does see Lucifer again, then… You know he always comes back. So, I hope she makes him suffer.” 

Sam shakes his head with a bitter expression on his face.

“You gotta get out of this dark place,” Dean tells him softly. “You know, whatever’s going on in your head…”

“Dean!”

“What?”

Sam inhales deeply.

“You know what? Honestly?” Sam says with a sigh.

“Yeah, how ‘bout honestly.”

“I know what Rowena is dealing with. Since she’s not the only one who… feels helpless.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asks with sincerity.

“I mean, I had a plan, you know. I, uh… Help Jack, bring mom back. It wasn’t much, but it was something. It… it kept me from spinning off the rails. A-And now… Jack is gone, mom is still in hell, basically, a-and I-I-I just…”

Sam exhales in frustration. I lightly touch his forearm and squeeze gently. He looks at me with extremely tired eyes.

“We’ll figure it out,” Dean tells him. “The three of us.”

“Dean, we don’t have a plan,” Sam tells him deeply exasperated. “We don’t know what to do. So… How?!” He looks at me expectantly. “You got a plan, Vinnie?”

“Nope,” I smile encouragingly. “But I seldom do. And as I said, I have a perfect mission success rate. It will happen and I know…” Sam scoffs painfully and rolls his head away from me. “I do, I know, that keeping the faith on less than a glimmer of hope is hard as hell. In fact, it's a kind of hell in itself. But please, put your faith in your own abilities to succeed and in my ability to get my job done. I promise I won’t let you or your family down.”

He shakes his head, biting his lips together in irritation. He looks at me finally.

“Yeah… night…” he tells me in a soft, but tense voice as he stands.

My hand falls from his arm as he does. Without another word, he walks out of the kitchen door. I watch him silently go, then I look at his half-eaten bowl of chili. A sigh escapes me as I go back to my food.

“He isn’t really mad at you,” Dean tells me. 

I look up at him and smile kindly.

“And he isn’t mad at you either. He’s just scared and frustrated. I bet exhaustion is also playing a role too.”

“This happens to us all the time,” Dean tells me. “Sammy makes a plan, complex or simple, never really matters. It doesn’t always work and he gets frustrated.”

“You’ve heard that saying, ‘You want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.’”

“Yeah, well God here doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself.”

“But you understand what I mean, don’t you?” I ask. 

He gives me a couple of nod s.

“Kinda makes the idea of plannin’ anything seem stupid, huh?”

I shake my head.

“Plans give hope and a goal to shoot for. Creates a feeling of purpose. Human beings need that desperately. However, we must always remember that anything can change in the blink of an eye and so, we must be prepared to have to change too. Flexibility is a necessity as well as hope and purpose. That is a lesson it took me over fifty years to learn and ingrain into my mind. It will be okay.”

Dean looks at me curiously. 

“...You…” he chuckles slightly. “You got a way of putting things… I don’t know… It just…” He chuckles again. “You say it the way I need to hear it.”

“Old people tend to have that in common,” I laugh.

Dean chuckles again with a genuine smile.

“You really don’t seem that old,” he tells me kindly. “Hell, you look younger than me!”

“That’s because my aging was stopped at thirty. I’ll always be this good looking unless I get bashed up… In that case, just wait thirty minutes.”

I laugh while he nods.

“Mhmm…” he replies quietly as he scans my face. Shifting his gears, Dean perks up. “Hey, how’d your side mission go?”

“It was fine,” I reply off handley as I dig into my chili. “I helped rob the Bellagio by being a distraction and then I left. Rather boring.”

Dean blinks a couple of times and then laughs again. I grin at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any rights to Penny Dreadful, X-Men, Supernatural, or Once Upon a Time.  
> Traveler Lavinia, Gersham, the Citadel, and the Council are mine and should not be reproduced without my permission.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who liked the Scooby-Doo episode? You're in for a treat!

The next day was a hot mess of surprises and disappointment for the brothers. However, there was a silver lining. Castiel came stumbling into the bunker, bleeding, and dirty. After we got him settled into a chair in the library and pulled the first aid kit out, Castiel started telling us about what happened. Weeks ago he was kidnapped by the Last Prince of Hell, Asmodeus. Along with Lucifer who had managed to find a way back to this dimension from Apocalypse World. Lucifer was weakened over there before he came back by another, stronger, version of Michael the archangel. Because of this, he had tried to steal some of Castiel’s grace to restore himself to full power. 

While under the lock and key of the Last Prince of Hell, Castiel was being impersonated by Asmodeus when ‘he was calling us’. While Castiel had not been the main goal for Asmodeus, Lucifer was, our angel was imprisoned on the flip chance that he might be useful against the brothers. 

Our windfall came when the question of Lucifer’s return was brought up; How. Michael and something called the angel tablet was behind the situation. This tablet was written by the scribe of God when he was creating everything. The angel tablet contained all the information about angels, how they were made, what their purpose is, how to expel them from Heaven, what they were capable of doing. The latter being how Michael discovered a spell to open a rift to another dimension. A special and very much key ingredient being archangel grace; i.e. why ‘Lucifer’s tank was on low’ when he got back to this world. It seems the spell had a major flaw in that it could only send one person at a time via this method.

This might seem like the worst of it all, but it wasn’t. This other version of Michael was a powerful lunatic who wanted to come to this world and get rid of the humans. His reasoning was to bring the Earth back to factory settings; return it to a paradise. Lucifer was still in the wind in this world and the information he brought with him about Mary was simply that she was alive. 

The new plan now was to try and get the only tablet available to us, the demon tablet, translated. This was certainly an interesting concept for me. Sam called upon the only person in this world who could read the big slab of stone, the current prophet of the Lord who seemed to be quite familiar with the Winchester brothers and Castiel. 

Donatello Redfield is a rather portly, white-haired, typical professor of physics. Right down to his argyle sweater vest and round glasses perched on the tip of his nose. A pleasant man who takes a couple of days, somewhere around seven buckets of chicken legs, and very little sleep to glean us the information we need. Fruit from the tree of life, blood from a most holy man, the Seal of Solomon, and the grace of an archangel. In addition to that, we need to have something from someone who has been there before. Fortunately, Sam, Dean, and Castiel have all been to this Apocalypse version of their Earth before.

Thanks largely to a series of bizarre events we actually acquired the blood of a most holy man. The events centered around a Maltese relic, the skull of the blessed Saint Peter, a west coast mob boss, a shameless relic collector, and a terribly sweet man of the cloth. In fact, that particular man of the cloth, Father Lucca Camillari, is the shepherd of the congregation that has played host to the skull for well over a thousand years. Father Lucca has been given the title of Apostolic Protonotary Supernumerary by the Pope, for his good works around the world. This, by all accounts, made him a ‘most holy man.’ Bless his sweet heart. In return for helping him get the skull back he gave us some of his blood, no questions asked.

Waiting for Castiel to return from Syria with fruit from the Tree of Life, we end up taking on a case revolving around a giant green lizard monster terrorizing a small town. It turns out to be a stuffed dinosaur costume that was somehow possessed. There was no evidence of a cursed object, after it was blown up that is, to suggest that it was anything other than possession. Dean and I were quite satisfied with moving on. The pawnshop owner who was the last victim was so grateful, while he was being comforted by his next-door neighbor Jay, that he offered the brother’s anything they wanted from his shop, on the house. Naturally, Dean picked the biggest flat screen television in the place. Jay was kind enough to hold one of the double doors open with me to allow the brothers to take the T.V. out to the Impala. Something about the guy gave me a bad vibe. I was not sorry to say a quick goodbye and leave his presence. 

Once we returned back to the bunker, Dean disappeared for hours on end while Sam and I spent time looking into information about the Seal of Solomon. We still had no idea what that was or where to look for it.

“Hey, what are you guys doing?” Dean asks us as he comes into the library.

“Research,” Sam replies without looking up.

“Okay...”

“You know, it’s the strangest thing,” Sam goes on. “I can’t find anything about a cursed object that actually physically attacks people.”

I look up at him confused. Then it hit me. 

“...Do you mean to tell me you haven’t been doing research on the Seal?” I ask annoyed.

He looks at me bashfully. Dean rolls his head and eyes together.

“Dude, it’s over. All right? Be like Elsa… Let it go.”

Sam looks at me incredulously before he slowly turns around to look at his brother. Dean just grins.

“‘Be like, Elsa’?” Sam says slowly.

“Ah? Right?” Dean says with a grin and a shrug before motioning for us to follow him. “Come here. I need to show you something. It’s important… Come on.”

Sam and I look at each other skeptically before we get up and follow Dean. He leads us to a door down the hall from the archives room. With a flourish of his hand, Dean pushes it open and turns on a light within. 

“Behold…” he says with great pride.

The room has kegs suspended from the ceiling. A foosball table sits behind several La-Z-Boy recliners, a bar off to the side of them. The new T.V. is perched on a stand directly in front of the recliners. Several other things placed with intention make this a very appealing man cave. Dean looks around with wild giddy eyes.

“The Dean-cave. Or fortress of Dean-a-tude. Just… still trying to figure that one out,” he moves his hands around like he’s collecting things from the open air. Moving forward, he says, “We got foosball. We’ve got a jukebox, all vinyl, obviously. La-Z-Boy recliners for everyone. And, of course, the bar. Still a work in progress. It’s gonna have a kegerator because… Well, it’s gonna. And finally…”

He grabs the remote for the T.V. while Sam and I look around at the room in silence. There is dim lighting making the place feel like a homey bar.

“The piece de resistance,” Dean says dramatically.

“Whoa! Hold on, when did you have time to do all this?” Sam asks.

“When it’s important, you make time, Sammy,” Dean tells him like it’s obvious.

“Ah…” I muse. “Presumably it was when I was doing  _ important  _ research on something  _ important  _ and you were dicking around doing research about the case we already finished…”

Sam shoots me a disappointed expression. I raise my eyebrow unphased.

“Any way!” Dean cries with joy. “Let’s give this bad boy a test run, huh?” 

Then he proceeded to sing, loudly, Sunrise from Also Sprach Zarathustra.

“Duun… Duunn… Da Duun!”

The sound of electric sparks come from the television while at the same time the screen fuzzes and shines a strange purple light.

“What the hell?” Sam whispers curiously.

“Are the cables hooked up correctly?” I ask before there’s a  _ zap! _ sound.

Blinding purple light engulfs us and explodes to white. I hear someone grunt while my vision tries to come back. When I open my eyes I notice that we are in a forest… but it’s cartoonish. 

“Dean? What just…” Sam says beside me. 

Then he and Dean scream. I look at them both and know instantly what just happened.

“You’re a cartoon!” they shout at the same time. I cross my arms waiting. “I’m a cartoon!” they shout at the same time again.

“You guys look pretty good for being flat and hand-painted…” I say casually.

They look at me and, literally, their eyes bulge in true cartoon fashion. 

“Whoa!” Dean and Sam say together.

I look down and realize what’s happened here. This cartoon version of myself is Jessica Rabbit curvaceous. 

“Ah,” I say softly. “No surprise there. Last time I was a cartoon was curvy too, only my hair was longer and not as curly.”

“You’re...You’re biggest concern here is your hair?” Sam asks in disbelief.

“Sure, what woman doesn’t want bodacious curves like this? All I’ve got to do is take two steps and I can stop traffic. It’s kind of fun.”

Sam blinks and looks at his hands confused.

“This is a dream… It’s gotta be a…” Sam starts.

Then Dean slaps him across the face, leaving a cartoonish handprint on his brother’s cheek.

“Dude!” Sam mutters.

“It’s not a dream,” Dean tells him.

“And it hardly hurt, huh?” I ask him with a knowing smile.

He looks at me astonished and slowly nods.

“This is… You guys saw that light, right? D-Did we just get sucked into the T.V.?” Sam asks.

“Or maybe this is an angel thing,” Dean suggests.

“Do your angels typically put you in a T.V.?” I ask.

“Well, the Trickster… but he’s dead,” Sam replies sadly.

“Or  _ is _ he?” Dean asks suggestively.

Dean rubs his neck and looks past us. His eyes go wide.

“Whoa,” he gasps. 

Sam and I look at what he’s staring at. It’s the Impala.

“How did the car get here?” Sam asks.

“...I had the keys in my pocket?” Dean asks back. “Or… Huh, wait. That’s what’s bumping you about this? Okay, look, are we animated? Yes. Does Lavinia look like Jessica Rabbit’s little sister? Yes. Is it weird? Yes.”

“It’s beyond weird,” Sam retorts flatly.

“Actually,” I interrupt, holding my index finger up. “This isn’t my first trip down the rabbit hole. Tasuke Mamoru was originally a cartoon. It just transferred when I came back to the three dimensional stories.”

“Uh, right...So, whatever happened…” Dean says looking at me curiously. “We’ll figure it out. This is a case so let’s work it.”

I nod and head to the car. Behind me there is the sound of jaws hitting the ground,  _ thunk! _ Looking over my shoulder, I throw them a catty grin as I grab the door handle.

“...Traffic, full stop,” I say with a wink then get into the back seat.

There’s a scene cut then and we are driving down a dark road. Sam and Dean in the front seat, the car’s engine purring loudly. The Impala pulls into a small town. A diner light flickers softly above a familiar green van. Dean’s eyes go wide when he pulls in next to it.

“Oh, my God,” he whispers, absolutely thrilled.

Sam looks next.

“That-that-that’s, uh, that’s… The Mystery Machine,” Sam breathes.

“We’re in Scooby-Doo!” Dean cheers.

“I take it, Dean’s a fan?” I ask with amusement as I watch him.

“I have had the biggest crush on Daphne since I was a kid!” he gushes to me.

“Well then, shall we?” I ask, holding my hand out to the diner.

“You can’t seriously be encouraging this,” Sam says to me in disbelief.

“Sure I can,” I reply as I open the door. “We are in a story, the only logical thing to do is finish it to its conclusion. Like Jumanji, gotta keep playing until someone wins or it won’t stop.”

Getting out I wait for them to join me at the diner door before we go in. A bell jingles when Sam pushes it open. In the distance we see the Scooby gang dancing next to a jukebox. This place is decorated in the sixties themed colors and patterns. The floor is white and black checkered tiles. Psychedelic paintings hang on the grey walls. Dean fangirls in a whispered squeal when he sees them. Scooby can be seen at a booth, sucking down milkshakes loudly.

“Great…” Sam says with immense disappointment. “So we’re stuck in a cartoon with a talking dog.”

“Not just any talking dog,  _ the _ talking dog,” Dean tells him with emphasis. “The greatest talking dog in history. Now come on! Dibs on Daphne.”

Dean saunters off and Sam looks at me pitifully.

“This is the worst,” he whines to me.

“Not really,” I reply knowingly. “At least there should be amazing food. If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you have Velma.”

Winking at him playfully before I take his arm to pull him along after Dean. We catch up easily as he seems to have slowed down to gather himself. 

“Okay, man. Get it together. This is your dream,” Dean mutters to himself.

“Your dream is to hang out with the Scooby Gang?”

Dean turns to look at his brother as if he's about to impart some sort of wisdom.

“Sam, growing up on the road, no matter where dad dragged us, no matter what we did, there was always a T.V. And you know what was always on that T.V.? Scooby and the gang. These guys, they’re our friggin’ role models, man. Except Fred. He’s a wad.”

“He’s… What?” Sam balks in confusion.

“Just think about it. We do the same thing. We go to spooky places, we solve mysteries, we fight ghosts.”

“Yeah, except our ghosts don’t wear masks, and we don’t have a talking dog.”

“I don’t know. I mean, Cass is kind of like a talking dog,” Dean says with a shrug.

“Aww,” I sigh sadly. “That’s not very nice… Although, now that you mention it, he does have that sad puppy look all the time.”

Dean points at me excitedly.

“See! See!” he nods. Then with a deep inhale he checks his hair. “Now, how do I look?”

“Like a cartoon,” I reply. “You are set.”

“Two-dimensional,” Sam adds.

“Perfect!” Dean grins and tromps forward. Coming to a stop next to their table, Dean says nervously, “Uh… hi.”

They look to us with the same unblinking eyes. 

_Old cartoons are the weirdest._

“Huh?” Daphni asks.

“Uh, uh, I’m Dean,” Dean tells them. “My brother, Sam,” he indicates Sam, then points to me. “Lavinia… our…”

“Toy,” I reply with a catty smile.

“Sister!” Dean shouts over me. “Sister.”

I wiggle my fingers at them in a cute fashion. He glares at me before turning back to the group.

“Mind if we join you?” Dean asks hopefully.

Their eyes literally make a _tink-_ _ tink _ , sound before they smile at us.

“Of course not! There’s plenty of room,” Fred tells us pleasantly.

He quickly introduces all the people at the table. Dean wastes no time going over to Daphne and grabbing up her hand to kiss it. Admittedly I do find this a little strange to watch, but I don’t have any illusions in my head. Men are weird when it comes to cartoon women from their childhoods.

Sitting down next to her Dean says to the others, “Of course we know you. You guys are famous.”

Sam sits next to Scooby and looks irritably at him when the giant dog asks with that famous laugh, “Famous?”

I pull up a chair and sit down at the open end of the table. The usual conversation that can be had from humble, nineteen sixties cartoons ensues and I find myself dozing. I can’t possibly be encouraged to care about what is being said. Something about Scooby being named the heir to some southern colonel’s fortune catches my ear though. 

Sam jumps on the opportunity to ask the usual Hunter question, “But he’s dead  _ now _ , right?”

This gets him a rather disturbed answer about cancer from Fred. Immediately Dean stands up, grabs my arm, and yanks Sam out of his seat.

“Excuse us a moment,” Dean tells the group with embarrassment. Pulling us a distance from them he whispers to Sam, “Hey, you wanna pull that stick out of your… nether regions and just play along here?”

“Play along? There are no words in this newspaper, Dean. We should be trying to get out of here and instead, you’re hanging out with Marmaduke.”

Dean gasps loudly, “How dare you!

“And hitting on Daphne, when she’s clearly with Fred,” Sam raises an eyebrow disapprovingly.

“She’s settling, alright?” Dean asks his brother seriously. “Now, last time we got zapped into T.V., we got out by playing our part. That kind of goes along with what Lavinia said before. So, play along, and you!” he points his finger at me making my eyes go wide. “Are we boring you?”

“Yes,” I reply without missing a beat. “But rather than get in the way, I’ve chosen to remain a neutral party until needed. So, how about you get that stick out from your, the correct term should have been undercarriage, and go play with the Scooby gang.”

He blinks at me a couple of times,  _ tink-tink, _ then smiles.

“You’re right, that is the right term.”

I reply with a smile and head back over to my chair.

“...Sounds like this could be the start of a mystery,” Fred says to Daphni.

“Golly,” I say with only partially mask sarcasm. “You won’t believe this, but my ‘brothers’ and I travel around solving mysteries too!”

“Uh! Y-Yeah,” Dean says swooping in with a grin. “Mind if we tag along?”

“That sounds like a swell idea,” Fred says with a grin. “In fact, I think it’s high time we hit the road.”

This prompts Shaggy and Scooby, followed quickly by Dean, to shout, ‘Road Food!’; and proceed to shuffle decks of assorted sliced ingredients in front of them into a huge deck looking sandwich each.

“Oook ow ig eye outh ii!” Dean says around the six decker sandwich in his oversized maw.

“Yes, darling,” I nod and give him a placating smile. “Look how big your mouth is.”

Sam groans just in time for another cut scene. We are now in the car alongside the Mystery Machine making plans to follow them to the Colonel’s mansion. Dean tries to race them, but the laws of the show prove that the Scooby Gang always wins. The older brother is angrier than I can convey. He blames it purely on Fred. 

“Dude,” Sam says with a smile. “Get over it.”

“No!” 

When we catch up to the gang who is now going up the front steps of the typical scary cartoon mansion, Dean seems to realize which episode we are in.

“A Night of Fright is No Delight,” Dean whispers to us. “I’ve seen it, like, a million times.”

As per the usual Scooby cartoon logic, we, the Scooby Gang, and some relatives of the now dead Colonel must spend the night in the ‘haunted’ mansion to get the promised share of the inheritance. Of course Scooby and Shaggy perk up at the news of the house being haunted. 

“What kind of weirdo sets this up?” Sam whispers to Dean and me. “I mean, spend the night in a haunted house for one million dollars? That can’t be legal.”

I lean back and look Sam over.

“You were an overly analytical child, weren’t you?” I ask him with a smirk.

“Yeah, he was,” Dean tells me in a whisper. 

“Sam, come on. The house isn’t really haunted,” Velma tells him like he’s being silly. “And things like this happen all the time.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sam gets snippy. “Maybe in a cart…”

He grunts when Dean elbows him in the ribs. Velma shrugs and walks away. 

“Dude, what is wrong with you?” Sam snaps at Dean.

“They don’t know that they’re in a… a C-word,” Dean hisses. “And we’re not gonna tell ‘em about anything. Not where we’re from, not about monsters. And especially nothing about you!” he points his finger at me. “Capiche?” 

“You’d be surprised how well these folks would accept what I do, but I shall remain silent on the matter. For you,” I reply with a respectful bow of my head.

He nods to me gratefully.

“They are pure and innocent and good and we’re gonna keep it that way.”

Sam sighs heavily, “Look, if you’ve seen this episode, why can’t we skip to the end?”

“Sweet sister!” I hiss with exasperation at Sam. He looks at me with shock while Dean nods. “We are  _ in _ the story, not  _ without _ . We have nothing else we can control other than our own actions. We can only affect it, not skip through it. This is your first lesson as a Traveler. Pay attention!”

Sam blinks at me again,  _ tink-tink _ .

“Exactly,” Dean says with a grin. “Sometimes it's about the journey, not the destination.”

“You’re only saying that, Dean, because you want more time to try to get with Daphne…” Sam grumbles.

I laugh and look around at the room we’re in. A mirror catches my eye and I balk at it.

“Holy shit!” I gasp.

“Language!” Dean hisses as he looks at what I’m staring at.

Not only was I designed with bodacious hips, but my lips are also big and full, my face is angelic and dainty. I wasn’t expecting to see such personality and beauty in this cartoon form. The other’s I’ve had were rather underwhelming to me. Anime always tried to give me bigger boobs and smaller hips. Giant round eyes and tiny child-like features.

“I’m a... pretty cartoon,” I whisper amazed.

“Aren’t you usually?” Sam asks, confused.

I find myself blushing hard at this.

“What the eff!” I hiss as I cover my face and turn away from the mirror. “I’ve been anime-ize a couple of times and they do the usual big eyes, sexy child thing to me. It’s creepy. I’ve only been in a couple where I look like an actual woman, but those always slim down my hips, mellow my hair and mess with my facial features. ...I’m not used to seeing,” I look back to the mirror cautiously, “something so close to what I look like and pretty.”

“...You do know… d-don’t you?” Sam stutters.

“You’re beautiful in the real world too,” Dean finishes for him.

I look at them and laugh suddenly.

“S-smooth talkers…” I push a sheepish grin and touch their arms. “Thank you! We should, um, go join the ‘gang’. Don’t you think?”

They nod and walk behind me over to the group at the front door.

“I’ll return to the house in the morning,” the lawyer tells everyone with a sinister tone. “To find out which of you remain, if any.”

He gives the a-typical villain laugh, Shaggy and Scooby gulp loudly. The brothers and I watch without emotion. Dean leans close to us.

“Turns out, he’s the bad guy,” he tells us as he points at the lawyer.

“You don’t say…” Sam says apathetically.

When the clock in the entryway chimes ten, one of the Colonel’s relatives suggests that we all turn in. There is a general consensus of agreement then the relatives head up the stairs. Dean all but runs to Daphne.

“Hey, Daphne,” he says sweetly. “Drafty house… what say you and I bunk together?”

Daphne does the  _ tink _ blink with a gaping mouth.

“Oh, Dean! Boys and girls don’t sleep in the same room, silly,” she waves her hand dismissively at a disappointed Dean before she turns to me, “Lavinia, you can stay in the same room as Velma and me.”

“That’s… so sweet of you, but uh…” I start trying to figure out how to explain to a G-er than G-rated cartoon character that I prefer to sleep naked.

“Go ahead, sis,” Dean tells me eagerly as he pushes me toward Velma and Daphne. 

I glare at him quietly as he mouths, ‘Get pictures.’

“Sure,” I reply with forced sweetness to Daphne, she and Velma smile. Then I turn to Scooby, “Hey, Scooby, if you get scared or just need a really good pillow, my ‘brothers’ are the biggest cuddlers in this house.”

I wink at the big dog who perks up at this information. Fred goes over to Dean and pats him on the back.

“Guess you’re with me slugger,” Fred says with a grin.

Dean looks at Fred, then glares at me.

“Awesome…” Dean says tightly. 

Sam smiles secretly at the back of Dean’s head. 

Silently I follow the girls up one set of stairs while the brothers are pulled along with Fred, Shaggy, and Scooby up the opposite set. We don’t walk too far before we find a room with a bed big enough for the three of us girls. I had suggested that I could sleep on the floor and they argued. So, once inside, I find a lace nightgown in a drawer, because, of course. This is a cartoon after all. When I’m done putting it on I help Velma pull the covers back on the bed. As I climb in, claiming one of the edges, Daphne brushes her hair while she talks.

“Those new guys, your brothers, are kinda groovy.”

“Sure, Dean’s all right,” Velma says with a shrug. “No offense,” she says to me quickly in that nasally voice I grew up listening to. “But your brother, Sam, he’s kind of a big lug… not the brightest. You know? ‘Haunted.’ Sheesh. Like that’s a real thing.”

“He can be a little… out there sometimes,” I reply tactfully.

Daphne puts her brush down and makes a ‘huh,’ noise as she skeptically looks at Velma.

“What?” Velma says.

“Oh, nothing. It’s just that I thought big lugs were kinda your thing,” Daphne says, looking at her friend out the corner of her eye.

Velma’s face goes red.

“Huh? Pssh!” she replies.

I laugh.

“It can't be helped,” I tell her sympathetically. “Sam’s a sweetie and very attractive.”

Velma blushes even more before she climbs into the bed next to me; Daphne takes the other edge. In little to no time, they are asleep while I lay waiting for the tell-tell signs of the first ‘scary event’ for the show. I’m quickly rewarded for my patience when there is a blood-curdling scream somewhere in the house. In the span of a hiccup Velma and Daphne are running out the room and down the hall. I follow casually, looking at the wallpaper on the walls as I go; it’s a pretty, dark grey on light grey damask pattern.

Down the stairs, to the entryway, and off to a lower room the group meets up. At a quick pace, we make it to one of the relatives’ rooms to find him tucked away in bed. Daphne touches him just as the brothers and I get to the room. Sam and Dean’s eyes light up at seeing me in the nightgown. I eye Dean’s, long nightshirt. He looks like he’s gonna play Ebenezer Scrooge in a stage play.

“Oh no!” Daphne cries.

This catches our attention.

“Wait, wait, wait,” demands Dean. “No, the dummy bodies don’t show up until later.”

Sam goes over and kneels by the bed, examining the relative.

“Dean, this isn’t a dummy…” Sam says gravely. “This is blood.”

Sam shows Dean his red hand before he stands and pulls the sheet off the body. 

Daphne gasps as Fred holds her shoulders.

“He’s… he’s dead,” Sam whispers. “Like… like, really, actually dead.”

There is a kitchen knife in the man’s back, cartoon blood dripping off the handle onto the bed. 

“Jinkies!” Velma cries in shock.

“Jeepers!” Daphne gasps.

“Zoinks,” Shaggy adds.

“Ruh-roh!” Scooby squeaks.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean snaps.

There is a burst of lightning and then a clap of thunder followed by a cut scene and suddenly we are all dressed in day clothes looking at the dead body.

“What the hell?” I whisper when I look at every one. 

I roll my eyes just before Fred speaks.

“Well, gang, it looks like we’ve got another mystery on our hands.”

He, Daphne, and Velma smile at this before they all head toward the bedroom door.

“Are you kidding me, Fred?” Sam growls, exasperated. “Dude, someone’s dead. A little respect.”

Sam goes to cover the dead body back up with the sheet. Dean comes closer to the bed, glaring at Fred. I lean against the wall, watching everyone else move along.

“Yeah, Fred,” Dean scolds as he passes. “He can be such a jerk. Right, Daphne?”

Daphne puts her hand on her hips and shakes her head.

“Not really,” she replies with a smile then she starts walking again.

“We should look for evidence…” Velma says with joy.

“Huh?!” Sam says irritably.

“Like fingerprints or fluids,” she adds giddily. 

“Fluids?” Sam hisses. 

“Dude, this is  _ not _ ,” Dean says in a panic as he runs to his brother and grabs him up by the jacket, “the way things went down in the episode. I remember everything that happened in Scooby-Doo, and no one ever got stabbed in the back and ended up in a pool of their own blood.”

Sam sighs, “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Um, so, if that guy can die for real in this cartoon, that means we can, too.”

“It doesn’t matter if  _ we _ die,” Dean demands. “Scooby-Doo could die! And that’s not happening, not on my watch. I’d take a bullet for that dog.”

“Easy, there, tiger,” I tease. “Why don’t we go see what they think is going on and just play the rest by ear, hmm?”

The brothers nod to me before we make our way to the study where the ‘Gang’ is.

“There has to be a logical explanation for what’s going on,” Velma says in her nasally voice.

The lights flicker as we enter.

“Besides a ghost hunting us down to collect an inheritance?” Shaggy cries in a panic.

“Yeah, what he said!” Scooby chimes in.

“What would a ghost need with money?” Daphne asks.

“Precisely!” agrees Velma. “And besides, there’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“Huh?!” Scooby and Shaggy say together as they look out the window.

“So, once you eliminate the impossible,” Velma goes on, “whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.”

“She took that from Sherlock Holmes…” I mutter under my breath.

“Look!” cries Shaggy as he points to the french doors behind Velma.

Outside lightning strikes, thunder claps, and suddenly we see a shadow walking through the garden to the glass French doors. Sam and Dean run over to either side of the doors, I stay back watching, while the Scooby Gang runs to hide. 

The brother’s nod to each other just as the person goes to open the door.  Suddenly , Fred jumps out of nowhere, grabbing the person, and throws them into a heavy curtain. The stranger gets tangled up in it and falls to the ground, grunting and groaning. Dean goes over, grabs the curtain with one hand, the other in a fist, ready to punch.

“Not today, freak!” Dean growls.

When he yanks the curtain off, we see Castiel.

“Cass?” Sam and Dean say together.

“Well, huh…” I exhale. “Hey, babe. What brings you here to the world of two-dimension?”

“Uh…” Castiel starts before he’s cut off.

“Like, you know this guy?” Shaggy asks from his and Scooby’s hiding spot behind a table.

“Uh, yeah, yea,” Sam stutters. “He’s a… he’s a friend of ours.”

“Neato!” Daphne says completely oblivious.

Once the brothers have helped Castiel up, Dean takes the opportunity to introduce our angel to the group without mentioning that he is an actual angel.

“Castiel, the Scooby Gang,” Dean says with a wave of his hand.

The Scooby Gang has lined up to smile and wave at Castiel.

“Castiel?” Shaggy says the name enthusiastically. “It sounds like a great Italian pizza place.”

He laughs as he reaches out to shake hands. Castiel obliges. Then Scooby shakes Castiel’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Scooby tells him.

“Sam, Dean… This dog is talking,” Castiel says as he points to Scooby. 

I nod as I lean against a table.

“Yep!” Dean says joyfully.

“Cass, how did you get here?” Sam asks softly.

“Well, I was looking for you at the bunker, when…” Castiel begins softly to the brothers and me.

He had come back from Syria with fruit from the Tree of Life, which had apparently been guarded by a pack of djinn. Castiel killed most of them, then bargained with the rest. It seems that he might now be, technically, married to their queen. Obviously, that is a mess for another time. 

When he got back to the bunker he went searching for us. He made it to the Dean-cave and saw the television was playing Scooby-Doo with us in it. Getting ready to leave the diner and race the Mystery Machine. That’s when he saw purple sparks, then a flash of light, and the next thing he knew he was in this strange cartoon world. Castiel saw us race off and has been trying to catch up ever since. 

“You saw purple sparks?” Sam asks as he rubs his chin. “That’s like with the killer stuffed dinosaur. And they were both in that pawnshop... Maybe this is all connected.”

“...You better not be saying that to get out of the fact that you left me to do all the research…” I grouse.

He looks at me with mild annoyance.

“Um, ‘killer stuffed dinosaur’?” Velma asks us skeptically as she comes closer

“Oh, I-I didn’t mean a real…” Sam stammers as he looks pleadingly at his brother. 

“It’s, uh, a book we’re writing,” Dean chimes in. “Yeah, about… killer stuffed dinosaurs. It’s called…”

“The Killer stuffed Dinosaur in Love,” Castiel adds quickly.

There’s a small silence from the Scooby Gang before Fred chimes in.

“Huh. Great title.”

Scooby echoes him as I roll my eyes.

“Well, if he isn’t responsible for Cousin Simple’s death,” Daphne moves on. “Who is?”

“Was that the name of the dead guy?” I whisper to Dean.

He nods in response. Sam shakes his head in annoyance. The lights flicker then and the temperature gets wicked cold.

“Like, somebody turn up the heat in here, man,” Shaggy whimpers. “It’s getting cold.”

Everyone’s breath can be seen as they exhale. While Shaggy and Scooby rub at their cold limbs there’s a blood-curdling scream from somewhere in the house. Then the lights go out all together. There’s another cutscene then all of us are lighting candles and lanterns that we pulled from...? I don’t know. With flashlights collected we go search the mansion. As we round the corner of the second floor we hear a man crying out.

“No! No! Gagh…”

There’s a slicing sound and something like wet gagging follows from a slightly open door at the end of the hall. 

“Sam,” Dean says, looking to his brother. 

As Sam reaches for the slightly open door we see a spray of blood just before the door slams shut. This is followed by all the doors in the hall slamming shut too. Scooby screams as a phantom hand reaches out through the door, purple light following it. Growls and screeches accompany the hand as it smacks Sam’s flashlight away. The rest of the phantom comes through the door then, tall, floating, glowing yellow eyes set over an open, sharp-toothed mouth. It screams at us.

“Ph-ph-ph-phantom!” Shaggy finally gets out.

Scooby screams as he leaps into Shaggy’s arms, then Shaggy leaps into Castiel’s. 

“Come on, guys,” Dean tells Sam and me. “We’re on.”

This does not seem to stop Fred as he roaringly leaps past us and straight through the Phantom. It screeches as its see through body shifts in and out of existence. Shrieking, it scratches at Dean who dodges and rolls away. The phantom leaves deep scratches on the wall where Dean had just been standing. It strikes again, this time for Fred, but Sam pushes him down. Fred then jumps up and charges after the phantom who has now decided to disappear through a wall. Fred charges after it only to find that the wall is very much solid and he cannot follow after. I have not bothered to move, simply taking in the scene and analyzing it.

“Wait, what?” Dean says as he goes closer to the wall.

“G-g-g-g-ghost!” Scooby whimpers from his position on top of Shaggy who is still on top of Castiel.

“Guys, no,” Velma tells him. “It’s not a ghost.”

Castiel takes this moment to toss the two onto the ground, unceremoniously in a pile.

“Oh, yeah?” Shaggy cries. “Then, man, how did he just walk through that wall?!”

The lights flicker back on. 

“Well, there’s probably a hidden door.”

“Whatever it was, it’s gone now,” Fred says as he touches the wall again. “It looks like he was coming out of here.”

Fred points to the door that the phantom had come through. There is black ectoplasm where its arm had reached out. Fred reaches for the door and opens it with a creak. Sam, Dean, and I look around Fred at a very much decapitated and dismembered lawyer… The one who was supposed to be the villain. Blood is everywhere. The rest of the Scooby Gang is peeking in now.

“Well, that’s not good,” Fred says simply.

Dean starts to gag, “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

There’s a beat, then Fred turns and walks away, the other’s following after him.

“Come on, gang!” he says unphased.

“They are really starting to bug me with that apathetic crap,” I say through gritted teeth. “That dude is all kinds of jacked up and they act like they gotta go watch their favorite show on T.V.”

“Right?!” Sam exclaims, looking at me. Then to Dean, he says, “Do they always just walk away from dead bodies or…”

“Guys,” Dean whispers as he goes into the room, “the cold spots, fritzing out… that was a ghost.  _ Our _ kind of ghost. I think this cartoon is haunted.”

“Well surmised,” I reply flatly. “Shall we go tell the Scooby Gang, that they need to start collecting salt?”

“What?! No!” he snaps at me. “We cannot break their innocence. We’ll take care of everything. We’ll keep them safe.”

I sigh and roll my head in annoyance. 

“Fine, darling,” I hiss. “Lead the way.”

He nods to me and takes off after the clueless group. Once we’re all down in the front hall again we can hear whimpering coming from Scooby and Shaggy.

“Alright, Prepmeister Fred,” Dean says as we get closer. “What’s your plan?”

“We should all split up and search the house for clues,” Fred replies with a grin.

Velma holds up a magnifying glass that she’s pulled literally out of nowhere. Scooby and Shaggy peek around Fred and give us goofy smiles.

“Are you kidding me?” I ask in disbelief.

“That’s a plan?” Castiel asks softly in his gravelly voice.

Sam looks at Dean who seems dumbfounded at this as well. Quickly he regains his composure and crosses his arms, shaking his head.

“Mnh-mnh,” Dean tells him.

“I-I don’t think we should separate,” Sam says “It’ll be easier for Dean, me, and Lavinia to keep you safe if we’re all together.”

“Really, Sam?” Velma asks with a grin and skeptical tone. “I wouldn’t expect such a big, broad-shouldered fella like you to be as chicken as Shaggy.” She touches Sam’s shoulder absently, Sam looks at her with pursed lips. Velma quickly looks at Shaggy then, “No offense, Shaggy.”

Shaggy and Scooby peek out around a suit of armor.

“Like, none taken,” he tells her.

“Sweet sister,” I hiss under my breath as I grab Sam and pull him closer so we can talk quietly. 

The gang gets huddled up to chat as well.

“If this  _ is _ a real ghost, these guys are in trouble,” Sam says. “We can’t let anything happen to them.”

“Exactly,” Dean agrees. “So, for now, let’s follow ascot boy’s lead.”

“Have you taken leave of your senses?” I snap at him. “I don’t give a flaming rat’s ass about those  _ cartoon characters _ . My job is to keep you three safe! Not them. Screw them!”

“We have to play this out,” Dean reminds me. “And since we’re the only ones who know what they are really doing, we have to go along with it.”

I close my eyes and rub my face with irritation.

“This is the biggest pile of bullshit I’ve seen in a while,” I tell him. “Fine. Have at, then.”

Dean nods with a grin and zooms over to Daphne.

“I call team up with Daphne!” he shouts.

“Great! It’ll be just the three of us,” Fred says enthusiastically.

Dean looks at me pathetically and yet annoyed. He looks at me then does a slight nod to Fred. I sigh for probably the hundredth time and walk over to the trio. 

“Golly,” I say sarcastically. “I really don’t like being away from my big brother during things like this… can I come too?”

“Of course!” Fred tells me with a grin as he pulls me into a group hug.

“It’ll be more fun having another girl along too,” Daphne tells me with a no blinking smile.

I smile back at her politely.

“Yeah, oodles of fun for the whole group,” I reply flatly as Fred pulls us along to the other wing of the house.

“I owe you one,” Dean whispers in my ear. 

“You bet your ass you do,” I whisper back. “Like I get to eat an entire pie right in front of you and you can’t have any.”

“That’s just… that’s mean.”

I nod.

Sam is commandeered by Velma to go check the attic while Castiel is stuck with Scooby and Shaggy. Castiel remarks about once leading armies and now he’s stuck with a scruffy Philistine and a talking dog. I smirk at this and keep walking. 

We enter a very underused library, cobwebs and dust touch everything. Furniture is covered in white cloth to keep them from getting dusty. Dean nudges me and looks at Fred before he points to himself, then Daphne. I roll my eyes and walk away.

_ I’m not helping you seduce another man’s woman. Even if they are cartoons,  _ I think to myself.

Dean hardly seems deterred as he walks over to Daphne. 

“Daphne, I usually don’t have to do this, but what do you look for in a guy?” he asks.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she says with a laugh. “Strong, sincere, and an ascot wouldn’t hurt.”

I watch Fred lift up a couch and look under it. Dean looks at her startled. When she walks away he rolls his eyes. I smirk and stand off to the side knowing full well that this is a pointless search. 

“Whoa, hold up,” Dean says, stopping in front of a bookcase, he motions to me.

I come over to where he is now standing. We stare together at an obvious, computer game style, pull  _ this _ to reveal something hidden, yellow book. It’s the only thing that stands out in the painted background of books on the shelves.

“Alright, Tomb Raider,” I say to him. “To pull or not to pull.”

Fred and Daphne come up behind us then. 

“Did you find a clue?” Daphne asks.

“Check out that book,” Dean tells them.

“There are a lot of books in here, Dean,” Fred reminds him, as clueless as ever.

“No,  _ that _ one,” Dean says pointing at the obviously different book. “The one that isn’t painted into the background of the car…” 

I elbow him. He grunts then clears his throat, looking at me thankfully. I nod.

“Library. The… library.”

He grabs the book and pulls it. Nothing happens so he puts it back in and does it again.

“Huh,” he says with a chuckle. “Sorry, I thought it might be some kind of secret passage or… I don’t know.”

“I thought the same thi…!” I start as the floor opens up below us.

We all cry out in surprise as we fall.

“Whoa!!” Daphne shouts as we slide down a series of twisting wooden troughs, down, down, down. 

Finally we all land, one on top of the other. Not sure who’s knee is in my back or who my chest is pressed up against. It’s too dark to tell. There are a lot of roving hands though, most of which I’m pretty sure are Dean’s.

“Daphne, you okay?” Dean asks in a panic.

“I’m gonna beat the tar out of you!” I snap at him. “Daphne? What about the rest of us?!”

He ignores me as he heads toward a pair of glowing eyes. Me and the other’s who are piled up together clamber to a standing position.

“Maybe I should just give you a once-over to make sure,” he goes on.

Fred seems to have found a light switch, which he turns on with a loud  _ clank _ . With the lights on, we see that Dean is touching the knee of the phantom who, not too long ago, tried to kill him.

“Aah!” he shouts.

“Dean, move!” I yell.

The phantom screeches and snarls in response to him.

“Oh! Oh, hell, no!” Dean cries out as he runs back to us. 

The lights flicker again as we take off down a hallway behind us. The phantom follows us for a moment before it disappears. There’s a cut scene and we find ourselves upstairs again in a hallway with lots of doors. Then the sound of a drum being hit several times comes from nowhere followed by a bass guitar. 

“Scooby Dobby Do, where are you? We’ve got some work to do now,” sings a voice.

_ They're playing the theme song?!  _

Daphne hides behind Dean as we watch Scooby, Shaggy, and then Castiel run by. Dean’s eyebrow goes up curiously. Daphne disappears just as Dean is about to wrap his arms around her. He blinks a couple of times and sees that she and Fred are following the others. I take off after them just as he shouts out. 

Then there’s another cute scene and we’re all running in pairs and trios through doors in a long hallway, while the phantom chases us randomly. When I realize what is going on I step out of the way and go to the end of the hall to watch this troupe play out. Tapping my head slightly to the catchy tune I see Fred dragging Daphne through a door, Dean following behind yelling. When that door shuts another opens to reveal Scooby and Shaggy running, followed by Castiel to another across the hall. Then everyone seems to come out, Velma and Sam together, Fred and Daphne, Scooby and Shaggy, Scrappy-Do comes out of nowhere too. The ghost going through walls and doors giving chase to random couples. Everyone ignores everyone else as they pass by. When the ghost goes through a door the Scooby Gang is suddenly on it with wood, hammers, and nails, boarding it up. When one door is done they go to the others and do the same to them. 

“They work quick,” I muse softly.

While Dean admires Daphne’s rear, the ghost suddenly materializes through the door intending to grab Daphne. Dean gasps and Daphne screams. Dean grabs her hand and takes off, the rest of the group following behind him. I saunter my way along still bobbing along to the song. There’s a moment when they all hide in giant vases and Dean almost lands a kiss on Daphne before she screams at the ghost behind them and they all scatter once more. 

Eventually, there is another cutscene and everyone ends up running into each other at a T-hallway. I walk along, seemingly coming out of nowhere, to a pile of cartoon people. The ghost howls as it comes around the corner. They all scream and jump up. Dean sees me, grabs my hand, and yanks me into a room. He and Sam slam the door shut before he whirls around and looks at me.

“Where have  _ you _ been?!” he snaps.

“I was watching you guys do the Scooby-Doo run-through-different-doors thing,” I tell him calmly though I’m rather shocked that he’s yelling at me.

“Why weren’t you doing it too?” Sam asks.

“I don’t run,” I reply with a dismissive wave of my hand. “Not unless I have to.” They look at me dumbfounded. “It’s a character trait.”

“We have to stop this ghost!” Fred says determinedly.

“We almost did,” Daphne reminds him. “Dean had him by the thigh.”

Sam looks at his brother with scrutinizing eyes.

“He what?” Castiel says in his gravelly voice.

“I almost caught him,” Dean says as Sam’s face gets annoyed. “That’s the point.”

“Guys, come on,” Velma says annoyed. “For the last time, there’s no such thing as ghosts.”

As she says this she exhales and gasps when she sees her own breath. Her glasses frost over as the room goes terribly cold. The windows on the doors behind us frost over to causing Shaggy to gasp. Lights flicker and the Scooby Gang looks up to the chandelier in fear. There’s a thudding against the doors that Sam and Dean had shut followed by a roar from the other side. Another roar comes as the phantom pushes the doors open.

“Oh, no!” Daphne cries.

“That costume looks really… real,” Velma says when she puts her glasses back on.

The phantom growls and roars at us more as Fred goes charging past us to the phantom.

“I’ll get him,” Fred declares.

“Fred, don’t!” Sam calls out just as the phantom swats Fred away like a toy.

Fred slams into a statue, shattering it. He groans as he falls to the ground unconscious.

Daphne calls out to him. This catches the attention of the phantom who growls. Suddenly, Daphne and Velma are being lifted into the air and slammed into the ceiling by the phantom. 

“Like, that’s our cue to get out of here!” Shaggy tells Scooby.

“Aah!” Scooby screams as the phantom appears next to them. 

They try to run but the phantom has used its power to pick Shaggy up. Shaggy screams hysterically as the phantom tosses him through the glass doors and over the balcony. The sound of glass shattering and Shaggy grunting before he screams are what Sam, Dean, and I hear as we collect iron objects from around the room and begin attacking the phantom. It screams as purple light comes out from where it’s struck. The phantom tries briefly to run, roaring angrily, before it disappears. The lights flicker a couple times once it’s gone then they come back on completely. Sam and Dean go to catch the girls as they fall from the ceiling while Fred seems to come to. His nose is bleeding. This seems to surprise him very much. Getting up he comes over to us in a panic. His perfect hair is now a frayed mess.

“What just happened?!” he asks hysterically.

“Where’s Shaggy?” cries Scooby.

“Over here!” hollers Shaggy from the balcony. 

We run over to see that he’s managed to grab a hold of some decorative metalwork on the balcony. It’s creaking and bendings under his weight.

“Like, a little help?” he cries.

But none of us are fast enough to get to him before the metal gives and he goes plummeting down to the back garden. He falls through some trees and lands hard on the ground below. We hear his groans and cries from the balcony before we race down to the garden.

“Shaggy! Are you okay?” Daphne asks.

“Like, do I look like I’m okay?” he snaps.

Castiel looks his arm over.

“It appears his arm is broken,” he tells us.

“What?!” Shaggy cries. “That’s not… I have jumped out of a biplane in a museum and was fine! How did this happen?!”

“I-I don’t know. I…” Fred says in a panic. “Something threw me across the room.”

“Wires. Probably just wires,” Velma insists frantically.

Sam and Dean look at each other then me. I raise an eyebrow as I look at them expectantly.

“Like, hello!” Shaggy says as he holds up his very obviously broken arm. “Broken arm here!

His forearm is bent like a straw. Velma gets to work putting his arm into a splint while I look at the brothers.

“You guys ready to stop screwing around here?” I ask tiredly. “I’m getting sick of being here.”

Sam nods while Dean sighs. 

“Dean, we have to tell them the truth,” Sam agrees.

“What truth?!” Daphne demands.

“The truth about the phantom,” Sam says sadly.

“This phantom isn’t like the other ghosts you’ve faced,” Dean tells them. “It’s real. A real ghost.”

“Huh?” they all say together.

“Um… I’m not totally following you,” Fred tells him.

“Look, that isn’t a guy in a mask and a costume,” Sam tells them with as much patience as he can muster. “It’s a vengeful spirit that’s come back from the dead.”

“That’s the truth,” Dean says with a nod.

“So…” Velma says to Sam as she shakily grabs her glasses, “everything you told me, it’s true?”

“Oh,” I say softly as I look at him. “So you already tried to have this talk…”

“Mm-hmm,” Sam says to both Velma and me.

“Werewolves? Vampires? Demons?!”

We nod together at her. She looks down at her glasses.

“I thought I was blind without my glasses, but I was just blind. Oh, how could I be so stupid?”

Velma seems to crumble under the weight of this knowledge. It’s rather heartbreaking watching a children's cartoon come to terms with something so vast and scary. The rest of the Scooby Gang slowly starts to lose their cool.

“Uh… well, I mean…” Sam starts, looking at them with increasing panic.

“We’ve been stopping real estate developers when we could’ve been hunting Dracula?” Fred says in anger as he goes over to a tree and starts to slam his head into it. There’s a heavy  _ thunking  _ sound from this as he goes on, “Are you kidding me?!” Another heavy thunk as he slams into it again. “My life is meaningless!”

“Uh…” Sam says horrified. 

“Ooh. Ah…” Dean says as he watches Fred slam away at the tree trunk.

Daphne starts to hyperventilate as she rubs her arms.

“If there are ghosts…” she starts. “That means there’s an afterlife. Heaven. Hell.” Shaggy looks at us angrily before he looks at her. “Am I going to hell?!” she cries out as she grabs her head.

“We told you every  _ freaking time! _ ” Shaggy snaps at her. “But did you ever listen to Scoob and me? No!”

“We’re doomed,” Scooby says with resigned finality.

I roll my eyes and give a loud whistle.

“Knock it the hell off!” I shout. 

They all jerk violently then look at us startled.

“Come on! Scooby Gang does not have nervous breakdowns,” Dean tells them.

“Ain’t that the truth!” I snort. “You don’t even bat an eye at dead bodies.”

“That’s right,” Dean agrees. “Now, you may not have tangled with the supernatural, but you’ve fought monsters, real freakn’ psychos. Well, you stopped Zeke and Zeb. Shaggy figured out that the sharks Old Iron Face rode were really just torpedoes disguised to look like sharks. And what about the Black Knight? Huh? Mamba Womba?”

“The Space Kook,” Sam adds in with a finger stabbing into the air.

Dean spins around with a grin. 

“I knew it! You love this show, too.”

“Mm…” Sam sighs and lifts his hands up as he shrugs his shoulders.

“Space Kook, Ghost Clown, Miner 49er. You guys have all jumped into danger with no thought for yourselves,” Dean reminds them. “You’re heroes, and together, we’re gonna take down this phantom. Are you with me?”

They throw their arms up and grin.

“Yeah!” they shout together.

“Let’s do it!” Fred yells.

“But how? We don’t know the first thing about fighting real ghosts,” Velma tells us. “We don’t have the proper tools or weapons.”

“That’s okay,” Sam tells them. “ _ We _ do.”

We make our way over to the Impala’s trunk and open it up. There are noises of wonder and amazement from the Scooby gang as they gaze at the cache of weapons. Sam grabs a shotgun and hands it to Velma.

“Here ya go, Velma,” he tells her.

“Sam, are you crazy?” Dean asks as he grabs the shotgun away. “They can’t use this stuff. That’s a Scooby don’t.”

“Dean, we’ve got to do something,” Fred tells him. “I mean you guys are amazing!”

“Thank you, Fred,” Dean says with pride.

“But we can help. We have to.”

“Fucking right you can,” Dean says with a proud grin as he puts his hand on Fred’s shoulder. “You’re gonna do what you do best… build a trap.” 

“Are you serious?” I mutter.

There’s another cutscene. True to his word, Dean has Fred build a trap… For a creature that can actually slip on soap. Somehow Fred incorporates coconuts which Sam and I cannot for the life of us figure out where he got them. Then there’s something about a washing machine that’s been secured with iron chains. I sigh heavily at the fact that the Scooby Gang seems to feel this is a great way to capture the phantom. Meanwhile, the brothers and I come up with another way to make sure that we get the job done. Then it’s time to wait and see the first plan fall apart, I plop down in a chair as they send Shaggy, Scooby, and Castiel out as bait.

“This is going to be great!” Dean grins.

And it wasn’t. Instead of the phantom ending up in a washing machine, Shaggy, Scooby, and Castiel are stuck on spin while the phantom looks around the room, shrieking. 

“I told you it wasn’t going to work!” snaps Sam.

“Yeah, Fred’s plans never work…” Dean agrees. “Daph, Plan B!”

“You must enjoy wasting my time,” I mutter.

“Operation Bookworm is a go!” Dean calls loudly.

Daphne jumps up and runs out a door, Fred and Velma run out different doors. The Phantom follows them at first until Sam, Dean, and I take off out another door, the phantom chases after us. We beat it to the library, everyone else is there, waiting to pelt the phantom with books while we set the trap down in the basement. Pulling out the book that opens the trapdoor, Sam, Dean, Castiel, and I slide down, set up a ring of salt, and wait for the phantom to come down too. 

Eventually, it does, landing on its face, in true cartoon fashion. When it rises up again it shrieks at us again and slams into the salt barrier. Electricity crackles when it thuds again and again against the barrier. We stand, watching it try over and over to get through.

“That’s a salt circle,” Sam tells it. “You’re stuck.”

“Let… me… go!” it growls for the first time in an echoey voice.

The voice is rather demonic in its overtone, but the undertone sounds like a little child.

“Happy to, Sparky,” Dean tells it. “Soon as you tell us who you really are.”

It shrieks more and bangs its fist against the barrier, like a child throwing a tantrum. I tilt my head and watch it fling itself around. Finally, it slumps down and turns into a little boy, knees pulled up to his chest.

“Oh, sweetie,” I whisper as I sink down to my knees next to the salt barrier. 

“It’s… a child,” Castiel says in amazement.

“Yeah, creepy ghost kid. You get used to ‘em,” Dean says nonchalantly.

“But… Wait, “Sam says looking at the kid. “Why are you trying to kill us?”

“I’m not,” comes the child’s echoey voice. “I never wanted to hurt anyone. But the bad man, he makes me.”

“The bad man?” Castiel asks.

My eyes narrow in anger.

“His name is Jay,” the boy tells us.

“The dude from the pawnshop?” Dean asks.

The neighboring business owner who came to see what the commotion was. I knew he was rather creepy looking, pudgy, odd features, bad vibes. I remember him now.

“When I died,” the boy goes on. “My soul was tied to a pocketknife. My dad gave it to me. It meant everything to me. When Jay found me, he used me to… Sometimes, I get so angry I break things, hurt people. But I don’t want to. I just want to see my dad again.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel tells him. “It was wrong of him to do that.”

“None of this was your fault,” I tell the little boy. “We’ll make it right.”

“You’ll have to get us back to the real world though,” Dean tells him. “We can’t do anything for you in here. But we can set you free.”

“Do you promise?” the little boy asks, looking up hopefully.

Dean grins.

“Cross my heart and hope to d…” he starts to do the motions for the promise before he realizes the last part. He clears his throat and goes on, “Well, you know what I mean.”

He scratches the back of his head and smiles. The little boy chuckles and smiles.

“Well, why don’t we wrap things up here and head back?” I ask.

“Yes,” the boy smiles at me.

The Scooby gang is quickly falling apart outside of this chamber in the basement. It’s gotten a little Lord of the Flies. So, Dean comes up with a plan to make them believe that it was all a normal mystery for them. The boy pretends to be the creepy lawyer who was actually killed. Magically things go back to normal for them. Shaggy’s arm heals, Fred’s nose is no longer bloody, Velma is her overly analytical self. They are only briefly sad to find that the money they had been promised is completely worthless because it’s in confederate dollars. Dean seems to come to terms with Fred before he goes to Daphne.

“Well, Daphne,” he says softly. “This is it.”

“What’s it?” she asks, still clueless.

“I guess we’ll never know what could have been.”

A loud sigh escapes me as Daphne blinks at Dean then runs after Fred. Castiel says goodbye to his new friends, Shaggy and Scooby who panic at the idea of more danger and bolt from the house. Sam, however, receives a big kiss from Velma who, after she releases him, marvels at his shoulders for the last time as she walks away.

“Shoulda known Velma was good to go,” Dean muses. “Gah! It’s always the quiet ones.”

Sam and I cringe at his words. Castiel walks over to the disguised boy and we follow along.

“We’re ready,” Castiel tells him.

There’s a whooshing sound as the boy turns back into himself, floating three feet off the floor, cross-legged. He reaches his hands out to us, which we take. A flash of purple light overwhelms us and suddenly we’re back in the real world again. We look around at each other and the room. Sam exhales sharply.

“Ahh!” I sigh happily. “High definition and three dimensional once again!” Looking to Sam I bow, “Please forgive me for not seeing how very real your concern was.”

His cheeks go pink as he rubs the back of his neck.

“It’s not a big deal…” he mutters.

Standing back up, I look at the T.V.

“So, the pocketknife is… Where?” I ask.

Dean sighs as he looks at his new big screen.

“Somewhere inside,” he replies. “But, man! That was the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me. And that includes the Cartwright twins.”

“What did you do with the Cartwright twins?” Castiel asks.

Dean’s face gets giddy as he stammers a laugh.

“Oh…” he breathes with a grin as he looks at Castiel then me.

“Hmm?” I ask with a catty smile.

“...I’ll be right back,” he says as he practically runs away.

When he comes back he's holding a blow torch and a sledgehammer. The torch he tosses to Sam, the hammer he takes to the T.V. after apologizing to it. Dean swings the hammer back, then brings it crashing down onto the screen. When he finally tears it apart we find the pocketknife stuffed down in the back. Castiel and I watch at a distance when Sam goes to light the little black thing on fire. The little boy flickers into existence once more, reddish hair, sunken eyes, sad face. 

“Time to go, kid,” Dean tells him.

“What about the bad man?” the boy asks.

“Don’t you worry about that,” I reply with a smile. “We’ll take very good care of him.”

The little boy nods to me gratefully. Sam pulls out a tray from Dean’s bar and lights the torch. As the black plastic of the knife starts to bubble and melt, the little boy’s figure starts to crackle and distort. A bright light shines out from inside him as he fades to vapor and light. He rises up through the air and through the ceiling. Nothing of him is left but a burnt pocket knife. I find myself staring at the ceiling, trying not to cry. I’m angry and I’m sad. I feel like killing that man, Jay. How dare he harm a little boy even if he is a ghost. The men around me look at each other sadly. I get the feeling they feel much the same way I do.

A day later we are back at the pawnshop only to see that Jay is trying to encourage the owner to sign over the deed to the building. I have been instructed by Sam as well as Dean, that I am not allowed to kill this disgusting little imp. Instead, they call the police with proof that Jay has been swindling people all over town out of their property and not paying taxes on it. What the authorities don’t know is that he was doing this by scaring the hell out of business owners by using that little boy’s ghost. Having him possess objects and hurting or frightening the other owners made sure they were plenty happy to give away their property for almost nothing. Jay gets shunted away to the big house while Dean tries to pull off a red ascot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any rights to Penny Dreadful, X-Men, Supernatural, or Once Upon a Time.  
> Traveler Lavinia, Gersham, the Citadel, and the Council are mine and should not be reproduced without my permission.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warning for near-death and conversations about death.*

It’s a couple of days later that we get our first big break on our shot at archangel grace. Lucifer has been spotted attaching himself to a faith healer who actually is an angel named Anael. As Lucifer is very, very weak we believe that he’s taken this angel to slowly suck her grace out, giving him his power back. Sam traces her credit card to the Diamond Deluxe Motel in some little town in the midwest. Dean isn’t too sure that Lucifer hasn’t already killed her and just swiped her card. I honestly don’t care either way. I’m far more concerned about how we are going to capture him. I can’t kill him, though it would be easy, and all they’ve got is some handcuffs that would hold him if he was weak or a lesser angel. Who's to say that he hasn’t gotten enough stolen grace to snap the handcuffs?

When we get out, we go to stand by the office while Sam calls Anael’s room number, which we got from the clerk upon arrival. When she picks up we are finally sure that she’s alive. Sam asks her to come to the office so, ‘we can run her card again because the system is being screwy.’ She is more than happy to oblige. We wait patiently until we see her through the windows. Castiel goes out to meet her first.

“Anael,” he says softly.

“Castiel,” she says with round, surprised eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“We were gonna ask you the same thing,” Dean asks, stepping outside.

Sam and I follow behind.

“We’re looking for Lucifer,” Sam tells her. “Have you seen him? Do you know where he is?”

She looks over her shoulder, breathing a little heavier.

“...Yes, he’s in the room,” she tells us with slight fear on her face.

“Has he hurt you?” Castiel asks.

“Not yet,” she replies. “He’s threatened. He wants to drain my grace.”

“So, he’s still weak?” Sam asks.

“Very,” she informs us.

“Well, that’s a relief,” I say quietly.

“You have to help me,” she begs.

“We will,” Dean assures her. “But first, you’re gonna help us.”

She looks from Dean to Castiel then nods. Quietly she takes us back to her room door. She knocks twice.

“Lord Lucifer?” she says. “Could you let me in? Sorry. I forgot my key.”

She steps back, allowing Sam and Dean to fill up the doorway. I gently place myself in front of her and behind them. My sword is ready to come out if needed. The door opens a second later with a blond, scruffy man standing before us. He looks like someone who dearly loves to laugh.

“Really, uh…” he starts to say before his smile disappears.

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean says gruffly.

“What’s up? Gents,” Lucifer asks nervously. Then he sees me, “Uh, and lady.”

“Don’t talk to me,” I tell him with authority.

His eyebrows go up at my command. He chuckles weakly and turns to run, but is stopped by Castiel who has appeared behind him.

“Oh. Cass! You’re alive. That’s… that’s awesome,” he says with a fake, weak smile.

“They made me,” Anael tells him. “They forced me to tell them how  _ weak _ you still are.”

He seems to catch something in this, just from his expression and slight nodding. I grind my teeth.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I yell as I turn to Anael and elbow her in the nose. “You think he’s the only one that’s going to pick up on that,  _ little _ hint?!”

She grunts and staggers back holding her nose.

“What?!” Sam asks me quickly.

“She’s lying,” I snap as I turn around to look at Lucifer who is hardly trying to hide a smile.

“I was hoping to play it out a little longer,” he says with a full grin now.

“I make it a point to never give you what you want, you unoriginal prick,” I snap.

His smile disappears at my words as he twists his hand in a jerking motion causing my head to zip around, snapping my neck just as Anael slams an angel blade into my heart from behind. Everything goes dark for a second as I fall to the ground. Quickly, though my heart starts to heal up as do the ribs she broke, jamming her blade in. I feel the vertebrae and my spinal cord righting themselves and for the first time, I actually feel my canine teeth get longer and sharper. I blink a couple of times before I’m up on my feet once more. Sam has been shoved into a far wall. Castiel is upside on the ground behind Lucifer while Dean is being thrown through the air and into a closed closet. I stand up then and pull Tasuke Mamoru from its sheath and cut Anael, who is now standing behind Lucifer, in half. She makes a disgruntled noise before she falls to the ground with a fizzling sound. Lucifer whirls around to look at me startled, then down at the dead angel. 

“That’s not possible,” I just killed you.

“I don’t stay dead,” I inform him. “But she will.”

He grits his teeth as he nods at me a couple times.

“Yeah… well, I need to go,” he informs me. “But I just want to enjoy this for a moment.”

He pulls his hands up into the air and then makes them into fists, his face getting tense and angry. I feel it at the same time the guys start to gasp and groan. They bend over in pain. My own body, my internal organs, feel like they are being ripped apart and crushed at the same time. It’s a rather awful feeling, but not one that my body can’t quickly keep fixing. I realize it’s because of Lucifer that this is happening and he realizes that I’m not doubled over in pain. 

“This… you should be in pain,” he hisses at me in confusion.

“I am,” I tell him with a smile. “But it’s not the worst thing I’ve had to deal with.” 

Lucifer looks at me in disbelief.

“What the hell are you?”

Suddenly his eyes go wide. Then I hear the sound of shattering glass and a bright explosion goes off behind me. There’s a huge gust of wind in the room as I feel an odd kind of heat at my back. When the wind dies down everyone looks around. 

“Vinnie!” Dean yells as he scrambles up from the rubble he’s in to get to me.

“Yes?” I ask as I start to turn. 

I don’t even make it halfway around before Dean has wrapped his arms around me. He’s turning me around, moving my head this way and that, checking my torso where the angel blade had previously jutted out and ripped a hole in either side of my shirt. His warm rough fingers touch the skin that’s visible through the hole. I twitch at the tickling of his fingers against my healed skin. Turning me around he checks my back. While this is going on, Sam is talking to the person behind the explosion, Mr. Arthur Ketch.

“Did you just…” Sam starts.

“No,” Arthur sighs with disappointment. “He vanished before it went off. But you’re welcome.”

Castiel and Sam look at him disturbed.

“Congratulations,” Dean tells Ketch as he pulls me close to him with one arm, my shoulders tucked up under it. I feel confused and pleased by this action. He seems reluctant to let go of me just yet as he continues to vent, “You just helped Lucifer escape.”

“Put it another way, I put myself in harm's way to save your lives…” Ketch says with his eyebrows angrily knitted together. “Again. I thought with Lucifer’s weakened state a demon bomb might make a dent.”

“How did you even know about Lucifer being here?” Sam asks.

“I’m Ketch…” he says as if that explains everything. 

“Well, it seems that his weakened state might have been greatly exaggerated,” Castiel tells him. 

“Yeah… And w-what was up with Anael? I thought…” Sam trails off.

He and Castiel look at me confused.

“How are you still alive?” Castiel asks.

“I already said, I don’t stay dead. And my healing factor is far greater than any normal human’s. Ow!”

I push my tongue out and touch where I’d bitten it. There is a spot of blood when my finger pulls away. I bit my tongue with my new sharper teeth.

“Shit,” I mutter as I go to touch them.

Dean looks down at me, takes my chin, and pushes my face back so that he can see what I’m touching.

“When did that happen?” he asks, confused.

“It’s been happening,” I reply with reluctance. “Every time I pull a resurrection, something new happens to my body. Like I’m evolving. This time it was my canines. They’ve gotten longer and sharper. I’m just going to have to pay attention to how I talk from now on.”

“Yeah or…” he mutters then trails off.

My eyebrow goes up but he doesn’t continue. Instead, Dean tightens his grip around my shoulders with his arm. Just then Ketch clears his throat.

“Lady and Gentlemen, this may, once again, fall on deaf ears, but I shall have another go,” Ketch says gently with his lovely accent. “Clearly, Lucifer’s more dangerous than we thought. I propose we pool resources and go after him together.”

Dean sighs and looks away.

“Dude, why would we ever trust you?” Sam asks skeptically.

“Fine,” Ketch says as he looks down at the floor, crestfallen. “As proof of my sincerity, I shall come clean. I’m working for Asmodeus. Happy?”

The room suddenly gets heavy with tension.

“Whoa. What?” Dean whispers.

“That’s how you knew where Lucifer was…” I conclude.

“How is that supposed to make us feel better?” Dean demands.

“It’s not. It’s supposed to present an opportunity,” Ketch corrects. “If I’m working for him then I can pass information on to you.”

We all blink at this incredulously.

“Oh, right, and you would do this, for us,” Castiel says sarcastically.

“For everyone. I know you think I’m a monster,” Ketch says.

“Because you are,” Dean assures him.

“I don’t actually think anything of you,” I reply neutrally.

Ketch closes his eyes for a moment then looks at me gratefully.

“But even I must draw the line somewhere,” he says, not looking at the guys. “And letting Lucifer free upon the Earth? Well, as it turns out,” Ketch’s eyes get fiery as he looks around at them now, “that’s my line. Not to mention the whole Michael situation. I know you want to kill me. I know you can’t forgive me. But if you think about it, I’m the lesser of…”

I quickly count up our big obstacles.

“Three,” I say with certainty. “At least three evils.”

Ketch nods to me as Dean squeezes his arm against me again.

“Precisely. Now, all I ask is that you wait to murder me until after I prove useful. Hmm?”

“I really don’t feel that we can trust him,” Castiel confesses to the room.

“That’s why we don’t put our hopes and dreams on him,” I reply. “If he can do as he says he will, then we’ll know everything’s peachy. But we expect that he will double-cross us and plan accordingly.”

“That is a very logical way to proceed,” Ketch says to me with a smile.

“Don’t suck up to her, man,” Dean tells him angrily. “You’ll just piss us off more.”

“Shh,” I say as I pat his chest. Then to Ketch, I add, “I’m sure you know how to get a hold of us when you have information. How about you scurry away now? Thanks for trying to help.”

“Certainly, thank you for being a voice of reason,” he says with a slight bow. “I shall be off then.”

“Yes, do that,” Sam agrees. 

Ketch looks at us one last time before he departs quickly. 

“We need to get out of this hotel room,” I say as I look around. “No doubt someone’s been called about the noise and they won’t like finding us with a woman who has been cut in half.”

“Definitely not,” Sam agrees.

As he picks up his angel blade he does a double-take at Dean and me I. Dean’s arm is still very firmly around my shoulders. I’m not complaining simply because I find it comfortable, but Sam and I do not seem to be alone in that we are confused about why Dean is acting this way. Quickly we head to the car. Once in, we go back to the bunker in record time. Castiel informs us that he is going to go put out leads for Lucifer’s whereabouts. Without any fanfare he whooshes out of the car, the sound of wings flapping is the last we get from him. Dean looks into the back seat at me every so often.

“Dean!” I snap after the tenth time. “What is your problem?”

“You okay?” 

I raise an eyebrow in confusion.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Well, you got your neck snapped by Lucifer and you got run through with an angel blade. Most folks don’t just walk away from that.”

“I’m not most folks,” I reply with a huff, looking out the right window. “I’m fine. This isn’t the first time I’ve been kind of killed. And it won’t be the last.”

Dean winces at this and goes quiet. Sam looks at his brother then at me quizzically. I shrug and shake my head. 

_ I have no idea what is going on with him. _

It isn’t until we get back to the bunker that I start to get an idea of what is eating at Dean. I’m putting my things away in the room I’ve been given when there is a knock on my open door. As I pull off the shirt that Anael ruined I turn to look.

“Yeah?” I ask curiously.

Dean pokes his head around the corner, his face is an unnatural mask of neutrality. He is obviously trying to hide something. 

“Can I come in?” he asks.

“Sure.”

When he comes in I see that he is holding a first aid kit. 

“Did you need help with bandaging yourself up?” I ask as I throw my ruined shirt onto the desk.

I have plans to turn it into a cleaning rag. Dean’s eyes follow it, the corners of them twitch uncomfortably. Then he looks back at me and raises up the kit.

“I was gonna see if you needed anything from me, actually.”

I blink at him in confusion for a moment.

“No,” I tell him slowly. “I’m perfectly fine now. I told you, remember, all healed up.”

“Right, but… you can’t ever be too careful when it comes to an angel blade or… Lucifer…”

“He can go suck a dead dog’s nose as far as I’m concerned,” I reply harshly. “It’s not the first time I’ve dealt with him. This one just isn’t as disgusting as the others.”

Dean’s eyebrows press together in pain and discomfort. Slowly his face slips over into deep thought while he starts to shift from foot to foot. I watch for a moment, trying to figure out what is going through his head. 

_ Is it about what he and Sam have already been through or is it about me? _

I reach out to touch his shoulder, this catches his attention, causing him to twitch in surprise. Dean doesn’t pull away from me as I touch him, he just examines my face with great care. 

“What’s going on?” I ask softly. “Are you okay?”

“...It’s just… When you fell... and you were bleeding… Your neck was…” he trails off, his face going pale with memory.

“You were worried I wouldn’t get back up?” He nods, making me involuntarily smile affectionately. I move my hands up to his cheeks, positioning myself directly in front of him. “Thank you for worrying about me,” I tell him sincerely. “I haven’t had anyone openly worry about me like that in a long time. But I can’t stay dead, remember?”

“But you don’t know that for sure,” Dean blurts out loudly. “What if it’s actually like cats with that whole nine lives thing and someday you’re gonna run out?”

“Well, that would be a nice thing to hope for,” I reply honestly as I look down, pulling my hands away.

“No,” he demands, dropping the first aid kit to the ground so he can catch both of my hands. I blink in surprise at him as he holds them tightly and adds, “You can’t… Don’t say stuff like that.”

Staring at him for a moment I marvel at his dislike for my words. He’s suffered so much, can he really not understand wanting it all to stop? Is it possible he has no idea how fortunate he has mortality? What a gift death is to others. I give him a kind smile, but I know there’s some sadness in it too. With a shake of my head, I look away.

“Dean, I’m tired. Not just today, all the time. My bones are at one hundred percent, my muscles, my organs, all perfect. But they are tired just like my mind and my soul. We weren’t designed to live this long in a world, or worlds, full of pain and sorrow. Yet here I am. What I mean when I say something like that isn’t some depression-induced episode. It’s a desire for what I should have been given and am constantly denied. Death is a reward when you’re this old and tired, not a punishment.”

“...It wouldn’t…” Dean starts then cuts himself off.  He shakes his head, more to himself than me. There’s a quick squeeze to my hands from his before he lets them go. Bending, he collects the first aid kit, then he stares at it for a moment before he speaks again.  “If you need anything… just, uh, let me know. Okay?” 

I nod.

“Of course.”

He nods back, starts to step back, then he seems to think of something more important. Hesitantly he reaches an empty hand out to me and pulls me into a one-armed hug. His torso is tight, not just from the obvious muscles under his clothing. There is a tense, gotta-keep-it-under-control feeling coming from Dean as he hugs me close and firm. I return it with both of my arms wrapped around him. This does nothing to help him relax, but I can feel a relieved vibe come off him now. One last squeeze then he places a quick kiss into my hair before he lets me go and walks out my door. I watch him leave in silence.

_ He was scared he was going to lose me?  _

“Please don’t fall in love with me,” I whisper to the room. “I can’t stay even if…”

I sigh and shake my head bitterly.

_ Two broken hearts, isn’t that what this story needs?  _ I think to myself.

Dean doesn’t avoid me, in fact, he seems to be going out of his way to see if I need a drink or food while we do research. Small things like that. These actions do not escape the attention of Sam either. Getting pie and _sharing_ it with me is what really blows Sam’s mind.

“He  _ never _ shares pie,” Sam tells me in a hiss of a whisper over the table laden with books. 

“Hmm,” I reply, pretending I’m only mildly interested as I look through yet another text.

Dean has gone into the kitchen to get another helping of pie for himself. Sam is leaning over the table, getting closer to me and whispering.

“No, you don’t get it. I’ve seen him get into fistfights over the last slice of cherry pie at a diner. One time I thought he was going to cut a little old woman when we were at a buffet. Dean doesn’t share pie!”

I look up at him then and smile.

“I’m very special, indeed,” I reply. Sam looks at me in disbelief. “Admittedly, I’d knock down an old woman for cheesecake, so I can’t say I don’t understand where he’s coming from.”

“Are you not getting what I’m saying? I think he’s got something for you,” Sam hisses urgently.

It’s obvious to me that Sam isn’t going to let this go. So I lean closer as I hear Dean’s footstep getting louder on approach.

“...I know,” I reply with a meaningful look. “I really do get it. Okay?”

I give him a kind and sympathetic smile quickly before I look toward the hall Dean is coming down.

“...Just… D-Don’t hurt him. O-Okay?” Sam asks softly.

“Sam,” I say desperately in a quiet volume as I keep watching the hallway, “if I could make sure he was never hurt again, I would.” Then I look back to him and add, “But I can’t. Just know that it will hurt me too. It always does.”

Sam’s face is overtaken by sadness, pain, and disappointment. I think, though, that he might understand what I’m trying to say.

“What would hurt you, too?” Dean asks as he comes up into the library.

I continue to look at Sam.

_ How do you want to proceed from here? _

“U-Uh, Vinnie's sword… I was wondering i-if it can hurt her too if she gets cut by it,” Sam lies.

I nod to him, understanding. He knows his brother. Dean wouldn’t like Sam getting involved in affairs of the heart. But he loves his brother more than anyone, that much is obvious. How could he not want to try to protect him? 

“Of course,” Dean nods as he scoops a fork full of pie into his mouth. “That thing cut down a seventeen story tall monster in one swish.”

“Cut a finger off once when I was cleaning it,” I tell them as I go back to my text. “I wasn’t even putting pressure against it and zip! My finger was on the ground.”

“T-That’s… disgusting…” Sam tells me, his nose scrunching up in revulsion.

“It grew back,” I say with exasperation as I hold up my left hand and wiggle my fingers at him.

Dean makes a disgruntled sound before he sits down not too far from me and grabs up a book in silence. Well, almost silence, the sounds of him happily eating his pie is very much our background music for a while. I think it's a Metallica song?

What little we’ve found in books is summed up quickly: ‘Then Mighty Solomon commanded unto his priests, bind my seal. But the jewel was of the cosmos.’ The nearest we can figure out is that it must be a meteorite. We’ve already been through almost all of the books that have anything at all to do with Solomon in the bunker. Yet, that’s seriously all we have found in days. Checking the archives, again and again, we hunt longer. At one point Dean falls asleep sitting up and starts to snore softly. Sam and I look from each other to him. I giggle at the adorable sight when Sam pounds his hand on the table a couple of times. Dean’s eyes flutter open and he looks around at us with a, '…yeah? I was awake,' kind of face. 

I’m reading through folders from the Men of Letters when I stumble onto a small handwritten note on the lower part of a document. It reads: Solomon’s Treasure, box S394. Sam has just left to go to the bathroom when I read this. I move it over to Dean and point.

“What is ‘box S394’?” I ask him.

“...It… Does that say Solomon’s Treasure?!” he breathes with excitement. 

“Yes,” I nod with a grin. “Now where is that box?”

He jumps up then, grabs the document, and motions for me to follow him. Down one of the long shelves of the archives, we come upon stacks and rows of metal boxes. They remind me of safety deposit boxes. After several turns and long walks, we find ourselves in the S’s, three hundred section. Dean has to boost me up to get box 394 and when I come back down we quickly open it to find even more document folders.

“Oh, please…” I beg in a murmur. “Not more rabbit holes…”

“Well, now, hang on,” he says softly. “This is the first time we’ve seen anything in days about Solomon’s Treasure. Let’s just take a look.”

“Way to stay positive, Dean,” I chuckle.

He grins at me.

Back at our very crowded study table in the archives we open the box and start pulling files out to read. Dean finds what we’ve been looking for right away in the first folder he pulls out. With a grin at me, he takes me by the hand and hurries us down the hall to find Sam.

“Dean!” Sam shouts in irritation. “Are you kidding me?!”

We find Sam in front of a mirror looking annoyed.

“Sa… hey!” Dean says as we come into the room.

Sam points to his back, “Are you serious?”

“What?” I ask, confused.

I look in the mirror that he’s pointing at. Letting go of Dean’s hand, I cover my mouth, stifling a giggle. There are post-its on Sam’s back that say, ‘Dum Dum,’ ‘Kick me,’ ‘Ass face,’ ‘I’m stupid. Ask me.’ Sam turns then and points at his back. Dean looks and seems to remember putting them there now as his face lights up with laughter.

“Oh. It’s hilarious. Forget that,” Dean waves his hand dismissively. “Look what we found!”

“Brother’s are so mean,” I giggle under my breath as I go to help Sam pull the notes off his back.

“Older ones…” Sam grumps.

Dean ignores what we say as he sets down the folder and opens it up. Pointing to the document he says, “The Men of Letters found it. Solomon’s treasure.”

“Where?” Sam asks, everything before, forgotten.

“1917, in what is modern-day Israel. According to this, they dug it up. And, uh… here, look at the, uh…”

Dean is trying to point to where Sam should read, but the document is upside down for him. 

“Here,” I say helpfully as I point to the correct line.

Dean smiles at me gratefully while Sam starts to read out loud.

“Uh… ‘among the items found… a crystal that glowed with an unearthly light.’”

“That’s gotta be the seal, right?!” Dean says as he throws his arms out with excitement. 

“It’s gotta be. Where is it?” Sam asks hurriedly.

“Someplace called Capitulum Seven, in Portsmouth, Rhode Island,” I reply. Scanning the document quickly I point to the line that says this. “What is, Capitulum Seven?”

“Capitulum, it means, uh, ‘chapterhouse,’” Sam tells me enthusiastically. “So the Men of Letters has… has only one bunker, but they have smaller outposts all over the place. Capitulum One is in Jamestown.”

“So number seven is in Rhode Island,” I add.

“Yeah,” Dean nods. “There it is…” he grins at this and throws his arms out again. “Jinkies.”

Sam’s face loses any and all mirth as he looks at his brother in annoyance. 

“Aww, she really did like you, Sam,” I smile playfully as I bat the ends of his hair a little. 

“Ugh! Not the hair!” he tells me irritably. 

I laugh at him and move away from his gentle swatting hands.

“Your hair is straight,” I remind him. “It’ll just go back into place. Do that with curly hair and I turn into a ball of frizz.”

“Oh really?” Sam says, narrowing his eyes at me. “Why don’t we test that theory out!” 

He lunges for me then and I laugh as I dodge him easily. Sam keeps trying to grab for me but I keep spinning away like a ballerina. He’s so ungraceful and clumsy, it’s easy to bypass him. Dean is grinning as he watches this chase. His arms cross over his chest pleasantly.

“It’s not a theory,” I tell him as I spin away again. “I was a beautician before I was a Traveler. I know hair, especially my own.”

“Really?” Dean asks with interest. “Maybe you can help me with this part of my hair. It never wants to lay the way I want it to.”

He points to his forehead just as Sam comes to a stop to see what his brother is talking about. I come closer, keeping an eye on Sam’s hands. 

“Oh,” I nod. “You’ve got a cowlick there, a pretty big one. If you want your hair to do what you want, it needs to be longer there. When the weight is greater than the strength of the cowlick, you can manipulate it however you like.” 

Dean plays with his hair a little in thought. 

“Would I look good with longer hair?” he asks as he looks at his brother briefly.

I blurt a laugh.

“What a silly question. Of course you would,” I smile and walk toward the door. “Let’s get ready and go!” 

I catch him grinning as I walk out and smile to myself. He really is terribly adorable in a whiskey-drinking-muscle-car-driving-I-kill-monsters kind of way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any rights to Penny Dreadful, X-Men, Supernatural, or Once Upon a Time.  
> Traveler Lavinia, Gersham, the Citadel, and the Council are mine and should not be reproduced without my permission.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS!   
> For those that are sticklers when it comes to continuity, I did combine a couple of episodes from the show. But I think you'll be pleased with the end result.  
> Smut towards the end of the chapter.

We stop halfway to Capitulum Seven in some town called Zanesville, Ohio to stretch our legs and sleep at a motel. Sam is the first to pass out, taking up an entire bed. I don’t typically have a problem with sleeping on the floor, however, this floor is rather questionable in its cleanliness. With an oversized shirt that I’ve borrowed from Dean for this trip, I come out of the bathroom and stand next to Dean’s bed. 

“Scoot, please,” I request of him.

He looks at me with slightly wide eyes from his spot in the middle of the bed. 

“Uh… Yeah?” he says quickly moving toward the wall and pulling blankets down for me to get in. 

“This floor is gross at best,” I inform him. “I’m not sleeping on it. And Sam has taken up the entire bed over there.” I point to the younger brother, Dean sits up and looks over at his sprawled younger brother. “So, while I hate to put you out, and I am sorry about that, the only place I can sleep comfortably would be the car. However, I can’t guard you guys so well out there.”

“N-No! I-I-I get it…” Dean stutters in an interestingly eager tone. 

He pats the pillow next to his with a smile. I raise an eyebrow at him.

“We’re just sleeping,” I remind him.

“Right! No. Nothing else. Yeah,” he nods vigorously.

“Cool stuff,” I reply with a smile as I slide in and lay down.

I reach over to the lamp and turn it off, the room goes black. Dean shuffles his feet nervously as he clears his throat. Sam snores softly. I roll over, my back to Dean, and exhale softly.

“Goodnight, Dean,” I tell him.

“Er… yeah, nite,” he replies. “...Hey, I kind of… move around sometimes in my sleep. I might… um, touch… you. So, sorry… in advance.”

“No worries,” I assure him. “Sleep now, we’ve got a long drive tomorrow.”

I hear him nod in the silence. Eventually, he drifts off, snoring softly, and I follow his example. Though I never fully go into a deep sleep, ever the guardian, I sleep well until Dean starts to groan. It’s soft at first, sounds like a bad dream. The sound of his teeth clacking against each other and grinding comes next. It’s when he starts to thrash that I roll over and lay a hand on his shoulder. 

“Dean,” I whisper softly.

He jerks violently, pulling his gun from under his pillow, and cocks it.

“Shh, shh,” I whisper. “It’s Lavinia. I’m the one touching you.”

“Mnh?” he groans. 

“Put the gun away,” I tell him.

He seems to wake enough then and quickly does as I ask.

“S-Sorry,” he whispers urgently. “I wouldn’t have… I…”

“You had a bad dream, didn’t you?” I ask him.

“Uh… yeah, usually.”

I feel him rubbing his face. Sam doesn’t seem to have been phased by any of this. 

“I’m sorry,” he tells me again. Words won’t make him feel better so I reach my arm out to grab his far shoulder and pull him toward me. “W-What are you doing?” he asks me softly.

“I’m going to help you get back to sleep.”

He lets me pull him closer without complaint. Slipping my arm over his shoulder I run my fingers through his hair. Tentatively he places his arm over my ribs, his hand resting just behind my back. He lets out a breath he seems to have been holding in before a very soft sigh follows it. 

“Tonight, sleep well,” I tell him softly. “You are safe. Your brother is safe.”

He nods, his body relaxing. The small distance between us is quickly gone when he pulls me closer after he scoots down on the bed a little. Pressing his head up under my chin he inhales deeply, his face up against my neck and collarbone. 

“...You too,” he whispers against my skin. 

I nod slightly and keep running my fingers through his hair until he’s asleep again. Sleeping with someone soft and warm in my arms is rather addictive. 

_ This won’t end well…  _ I think to myself.  _ You sure you want to go any further? A person can’t horde love like a dragon does gold. It isn’t possible. If I chose not to allow more will I regret it? Will it hurt this silly warrior?  _

The next morning I wake to find that I’m turned around with my back to Dean. I don’t remember doing that. He’s burrowed his face into the bed and my shoulder while the rest of him is curled up as close as can be to me like a little child. Sam is still out. I pull the pillow I’d slept on the night before down next to him so that Dean won’t wake from the lack of a body. He shifts slightly, pulling the pillow against him, burying his face into it. I fight the smile that comes to my face as I watch him for a moment. Then I go about my usual routine of yoga and then a shower. When I leave the bathroom, dressed and sponging water from my hair with a towel, I find Dean is starting coffee while Sam is sitting on his bed, rubbing his eyes.

“Morning, sweeties,” I say gently. “How did everyone sleep?”

“Like the dead,” Sam tells me. 

“I’m not surprised,” I tell him as I grab some of my hair care products from my bag. “Was that the first time you’ve slept properly since we got back from seeing Lucifer?”

“Uh…” Sam says groggily in thought. “Yeah, I think so. I mean, I passed out when we were doing research…”

“Sure, because that’s a great substitute for real sleep,” I retort with a teasing smile.

He gives me a snarky look before he smiles slightly. 

“What about you, Dean?” Sam asks.

“Like a baby,” Dean says with far more chipperness than I’ve ever heard in his voice first thing in the morning.

“You’ve clearly never had babies,” I laugh. 

He looks at me out of the corner of his eye, pleasure shines there with his half-smile. When the coffee is done he hands me a cup first, then takes his to the bathroom to start his morning routine. Sam is checking his phone until Dean pulls the bathroom door shut. Then he looks at me with all of his focus.

“How did you sleep?” he asks me pointedly.

“Well,” I tell him. “Dean let me sleep next to him. This floor is terrifying.”

Sam looks down at the ground then blinks and does a double-take at me. 

“You slept with Dean?”

“Next.  _ Next _ to him,” I say, emphasizing my words with my empty hand. “He’s a cuddler.”

“...Uh… I-I wouldn’t, uh, know… You sure nothing else happened? He seemed way too pleasant this morning.”

I nod as I look at the bathroom door, the sound of a running shower coming from the other side now.

“He had a bad dream, but that was the only thing eventful,” I reply then sip at my coffee. 

“You said he, uh… cuddled… with you?”

“Yep,” I reply looking back to Sam. 

His face is amazed and confused. Then he shakes his head and looks down at his hands on his blanket covered legs.

“I-I get it now. Why it’s so hard for you,” he says softly. “You know you’re gonna have to leave, but you have no idea when. You have to work closely with people like us and… y-you just… how do you  _ not _ get attached or fall in love?”

I close my eyes at his words and exhale shakily. 

“You have hit the matter right on the head,” I whisper. “I wish I could be a machine or a stone-hearted Traveler. But I want… more.”

“You wouldn’t be as good as you are, if you were,” Sam says precisely. “I’ve… see, I’ve been thinking about what you said… you know, when…”

Sam gives me a shy, pleading look.

“On my daughter’s birthday,” I say for him.

He nods.

“You said you have a perfect record, whereas the other Travelers don’t. Maybe it’s because you aren’t like them. Because you are still very human on the inside, that makes you so good.”

“‘Empathy must be present for a person to successfully hear and take care of others,’” I recite to him. “‘Without it, the whole endeavor fails. However, it can hurt more than broken bones.’ I read that in a book a long time ago.”

He nods and looks up at me finally.

“I know you can’t stay, and I think Dean does too. But having a chance to love someone who gets our life and isn’t afraid… that’s a pretty big deal for us.”

“Sounds like a rare thing,” I guess.

“It is,” Sam nods with great emphasis. “Dean’s had… he’s had other women that he loved... t-they just couldn’t handle this. They stayed away and he let them. We, we’re lucky we have each other, ‘cause most hunters… they are all by themselves and that’s how they die.”

“Sounds very similar to my life,” I muse.

“I think that’s why we get along so well with you.” Sam laughs at this. “Hell! It-it’s why we got so close so fast. You’re one of us, even Jodi said that.”

I laugh suddenly at this.

“She did. I’d forgotten that.” I take a sip of my coffee and add, “I really like her, take care of her when I’m gone.”

“Of course,” Sam nods sadly. “We all take care of each other as much as we can. But what about you? You don’t have anyone to take care of you.”

“Hmm,” I hum to myself for a moment. “I do actually. It’s recent and I keep forgetting. My friends, Ethan and John, they're waiting for me in another story that isn’t even theirs. My door…” I laugh at the idea that has just come to me. “I think it gave them to me. I don’t know why, but I do.”

“Why them?” he asks.

“I have no idea. One’s a werewolf, the other is an immortal creation from a world of horror. Why in the world would they be the best and most suitable people to come with me?”

“Were you super close to them in their story?” 

“...Yes,” I nod several times. “Yes. They each gave me support in a way that contradicted their perceived natures. John was kind and supportive with his words and heart. Ethan, fought like a beast to keep me and my charge safe while pouring his heart and soul into us.”

“...S-Sounds like… you love him…” Sam comments, his tone defensive and yet guarded.

I tilt my head, knowing what he’s thinking.

“I do love Ethan,” I confess. “And while it wouldn’t be hard to allow myself to be in love with him, I do not, in fact, have that kind of love for him. In time, maybe. ...But not now…”  I glance quickly at the bathroom door then back to Sam. Sam doesn’t miss this and nods with some relief on his face.  “I don’t half-ass anything,” I tell him. “What I do, I do with my whole heart. Rest in that knowledge. Alright?”

Sam nods quickly in response to that just as Dean comes out of the bathroom. Steam billows out around him.

“You’re turn, Sammy,” he tells his younger brother. “After that, breakfast and then Rhode Island.”

Sam nods and heads for the shower after collecting his clothes for the day. More flannel...

Capitulum Seven’s entrance is next to an abandoned masonry building, through what looks like a sewer manhole. Sam pulls out a special, Men of Letters key from his jacket, and unlocks the manhole cover. After dropping down, finding the lightswitch, and turning on the power we make our way through every inch of this chapterhouse. Books and papers litter every hallway and room like people just threw what was in their arms down and ran. 

“Why does this place look like this?” I ask in wonder.

“Well, when Abbadon attacked the bunker the rest of the Men of Letters were either hunted down by her and killed or went into hiding,” Sam tells me, sidestepping several tossed books. “It’s not surprising that they would have just abandoned these chapter houses, afraid to come back in case she was waiting for them.”

“I can see the reasoning in that,” I confess as we walk along. “Where do you suppose this seal would be?” 

“Not sure,” Sam shrugs. “Possibly in their archives or armory?”

“Alright,” I say thoughtfully. “Shall we split up and cut our time down?”

“Yes,” Dean agrees. “We shall.”

I stick my tongue out at him for mocking me. He just smirks.

“Okay, just be careful, who knows what else is down here,” he tells Sam and I.

Several hours later I hear Sam calling for Dean and me. Moving quickly, my pistols in my hands, I follow the sound of his voice to him. He’s in what looks like the archives. I look around him for any possible threats. Dean arrives then and seems to have the same idea, his gun is out as well. 

“Dean! Lavinia! I found something!” Sam is shouting as he continues to look over some papers in front of him.

“Good to know,” I remark as I put my pistols away.

“Would have been nice to know you  _ weren’t _ being attacked…” Dean tells him grumpily.

Sam turns around to see us putting away our guns.

“Ah… well, yeah… Sorry about that. Anyway, I found where they put it. Seems they were worried about its security so they put it in a warded safe here.”

“Cool, where?” Dean asks.

“In a room with this symbol on it,” Sam holds up a picture of the symbols I’ve seen all over the bunker and in this chapter house. However, there is a difference in that this one has an eye in the middle of it.

“That’s the symbol for the Men of Letters,” Dean says. “But what’s that other bit?”

“The eye,” I add.

“Yeah, near as I can, uh, tell,” Sam says as he riffles through some of the papers in front of him. “It is their symbol for Solomon’s Seal.”

“So, we gotta find a door around here with that symbol on it,” Dean says looking around. “Gotcha.”

“I think I might have found it earlier,” I tell them suddenly. “The room was locked so I moved on, but it’s down that way.”

I point down the hall I’d come from. 

“Alright, let’s go try our key,” Dean says as he starts to walk toward the door.

“Hold on, Dean,” Sam says as he turns around to look at his older brother. “It says that the room can only be accessed by a key of the Men of Letters.  _ But _ , the room is booby-trapped with a pressurized floor and blow darts covered in holy water, dead man’s blood, silver, and arsenic.”

“Did they say how to get past it?” Dean asks.

“It says that, ‘Only a keeper of the wisdom shall pass it on to their successor.’”

“That’s less than helpful,” I mutter.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean growls.

“Well, there’s always one way to do things,” I pipe up with annoyance. “I’ll run through the room and get to the safe. Did they at least give you the combination?”

“What?! No!” snaps Dean.

“I won’t die from a little arsenic. And what's silver, holy water, and dead man’s blood going to do to me?”

“Uh… they didn’t actually put the combination down,” Sam says to me while looking at his brother with worry.

Dean looks like he’s about to have a conniption.

“You are not going to do that!”

“Dean, what would you suggest we do? We are running low on time with Jack being in Apocalypse World. Crazy Michael is trying to cross over and Lucifer is running amok here. I will be fine. Arsenic will affect me only in really high doses. That stuff has been sitting, waiting and unmaintained for who knows how long. It won’t be enough to overwhelm my system. And if it does I’ll just come ba…”

“Don’t say it!” Dean barks, quickly covering my mouth with his hand. “Don’t you dare say that.”

I pull his hand away gently, exhale, and look at Sam.

“Go find the door, it’s black, the symbol is painted in gold,” I tell him.

Sam gets up quietly and moves hastily out of the room. I look back to Dean. His face is pained and fearful. I step closer to him, putting my hands on either side of his face. Gently I pull his forehead down to meet mine.

“I won’t stay dead,” I remind him. “I have Logan’s healing factor. I may go down, but I get back up. Slightly altered, but I get back up. Please,” I exhale and close my eyes. “Please trust me to come back.”

Dean’s arms go around my ribs, his hands cross over each other and hold my shoulder blades; pulling me closer. My face moves from this action, causing our cheeks to press together. My arms go around his neck. 

“I trust you,” Dean whispers into my ear. “It’s those bastards that did this to you that I don’t trust.”

I squeeze my already closed eyes tightly at his words. No one has ever said something like that before. My heart thuds heavily as he squeezes me tightly against his chest. 

“Thank you,” I tell him in a small voice.

He pushes one hand up into my hair then, at the nape of my neck. Pulling away he looks down at me. My eyes open now and I see him lean his face down then stop in hesitation. 

“Can… Can I, uh, kiss you?” he asks just above a whisper.

“Please do,” I whisper back and close my eyes again.

Dean pulls my head a little closer as he closes the distance between us. His thick lips are warm and very eager to touch mine. They press together for a moment, enjoying the soft, warm sensation before we both open our mouths to go after a lip, I take his top, he takes my bottom. He tastes like beer and steak. Not a bad combination for the moment. Dean’s arm around my ribs pulls me even closer as we hungrily kiss. Unfortunately, It’s me who has to pull away first, Dean chasing my lips for a moment before he realizes what I’m doing. 

“We need to get the job done first,” I whisper.

He groans and closes his eyes annoyed. I remove my arms from around his neck while he reluctantly drops his hands from my back to rest them on my hips. Then his left hand rubs at his closed eyes. Dean is pleasantly surprised when I go up on tiptoe and give him one last quick kiss. His hand moves quickly so he can look at me with a warm smile before I walk past him and out the door.

“Come on,” I call back to him. 

I hear quick thudding behind me then I feel his hand grab up mine as he falls into step with me. I look down at it with a smile, my heart rate picking up as I feel fluttering in my stomach.

“You are surprisingly romantic,” I tell him.

“...Y-You don’t like romance?” 

“I never said that. I just didn’t realize how terribly, terribly sweet you are. It’s refreshing and…” I hmm for dramatic flare. “Attractive.”

“Ooh, I’ll romance the shit out of you, just wait and see,” he tells me with a grin.

“You just be yourself and I promise, you will have done just that.”

It doesn’t take us long to get to the door I had seen before. Sam has opened it and turned on the light inside. The room isn’t anything impressive aside from having holes all over the walls at various heights. The floor has raised stone tiles with special symbols on them. At the end is an old, late 1800’s style vault covered in beautifully hand-painted warding. If I can get to it, I can press my ear to the door and listen for the tumblers to fall into place. One of the many times my super healing factor has improved my body for the better.

“You know…” Sam says looking into the room. “I-I’m sure we can figure something out… You don’t have to do this, Vinnie.”

“Aw,” I look at him with disappointment. “Not you too. Stop it. Both of you.”

I squeeze Dean’s hand before trying to let go and step forward. He, however, is not ready to do that and continues to cling to my hand, pulling me back by it. I sigh and look up at him.

“I will be fine,” I whisper and touch his face again with my free hand. 

I squeeze his hand once more and pull my fingers from his grasp. Turning back to the room, I take off my gun holster and lay it on the ground. Stepping back a couple of paces, I breathe deeply, analyzing how far I’ll be able to jump and how fast I can run once I land. Bending down into a runner’s starter position, I breathe a couple of times and then take off. Running a couple of steps, gathering speed as I go, my right foot hits the doorway and I leap into the room, landing three feet from the door. The tiles I land on sink under my weight, causing something to click in the walls around me. But I don’t stop my forward motion and in a blink, I’m running for the safe. The sharp little missiles zip behind me, missing their target.

Somehow I’ve managed to be just ahead of the darts. However, the tiles change in shape and pattern further into the room, and while I was prepared to change I still get tripped up when I step on two at once, unevenly. I partially stumble but keep going regardless of Dean's shouts of panic. Not stopping, I keep going forward. Unfortunately, I’ve messed up my timing and I now feel the little sharp darts lodge themselves into my body. Not all of them hit me at first, but the arsenic is starting to take effect on me the more I get hit. I guess I underestimated the shelf life of the poison. Finally, I stumble and fall to the ground in a heap. 

“Lavinia!” Dean and Sam shout. 

Darts go flying over my head, two hit my shoulder. 

“...I’m…” I gasp out, feeling my heart slow, “...f-fine… st-st-staaayy…”

Everything goes black. My system is rebooting, pushing darts out, overtaking the poison in the bloodstream, and restarting my now failed organs. My ears pick up shouting, no words, just the noise. As my lungs pull for air and feeling comes back to my outer extremities I realize what the noise is.

“...NO! You can’t go in there, Dean,” Sam is shouting. “Just wait. Give her a chance.” 

“Get off me! Lavinia! Get up! Get up!” Dean cries out to me.

“Dean,” I call softly. “Dean!”

He goes quiet.

“L… Lavinia?! You okay?”

“Yeah,” I assure him as I slowly sit up, making sure I don’t disturb any new tiles. 

I look back at him and Sam in the doorway. Sam’s arms are like octopus tentacles around Dean’s body. Dean is straining against his brother, looking at me wildly. 

“Don’t you dare come in here,” I order him. “I will be fine. Though, you might have to catch me when I get back that way.”

“That’s fine,” he assures me. “Just get back here.”

Nodding to him, I turn back to look at the tiles I’ve already hit. Standing delicately, I step on the farthest one and look at the distance left to travel. There’s a foot of unpressurized floor in front of the safe and that is about a foot and some change from me now. I can jump that. Taking off my jacket, I mark the tiles I landed on. With little effort, I jump over to the safe. The brothers cheer in hushed tones then quiet down. Pressing my ear against the door of the safe I slowly start to spin the dial. There’s the first click. Stopping, I turn the dial the other way until I hear another click. Repeating this a third time I stand up, turn the metal crank, and pull the door open. Inside are various other artifacts, all labeled with paper tags. A purple, glowing stone winks at me as if it knows why I’m there. It’s tag reads: Seal of Solomon. Gently I pick it up and look at it. It looks almost like a hunk of amethyst the size of a six-year-old’s fist. 

I turn then and leap onto my jacket. Collecting it, I place the seal in the right pocket. Looking down at the ground I realize there are close to a hundred little darts lying where my body fell. I guess I could have used them as my marker. Bending over again I take a less professional runner’s stance before I start running again, trying to keep to where I know I ran before. No darts come as I manage to stay true to my previous course. Finally, I’m running at full tilt and confident that I’ll make it without getting hit again. That is, until, the stupid seal starts to come out of my pocket from all my bouncing.

“Lavinia, look out!” Sam calls as he points to my pocket.

There isn’t much need for that as I can feel it moving around. My feet stutter briefly as I grab for the rock and keep running. The three feet from the door that hadn’t been triggered are where I get struck with darts again. Fortunately, my forward momentum is enough to make sure I get back to Sam and Dean. Not conscious, but I get back. Dean catches me in his arms just as I stop breathing. My body is already pushing out the darts, forcing Dean to have to gingerly set me down so that he doesn’t accidentally get stabbed. 

When they are all out he pushes them away with his shoe and picks me up again. Waking from death for the second time I find I’m fully in his arms as he heads down the hall. My vocal cords feel weird, stronger. Looking at my hands I realize that my fingernails are thicker and narrowing at the tips sharply.

_ I’m getting more animalistic… I’ve got claws now. _

“You okay?” Dean asks me gruffly.

“Of course,” I reply. “You can put me down now…”

“No.”

“Dean…” I start.

“NO.” 

I look over his shoulder at Sam who seems to have collected the seal and is looking at me apologetically. I give him a look to let him know, I get it. Sam finds a ladder to help us get out of the chapter house. Once outside he uses his key to lock the manhole-looking entrance back up. 

When we get back to the car Dean puts me in the front seat between him and Sam. The air is tense as we drive away in silence. Dean doesn’t drive to Ohio like I expected him to. Instead, he gets to New Stanton, Pennsylvania. He stops at a drive-thru and tells Sam to call Castiel about us getting the seal. With food in our hands, we pull into an Econo Lodge for the night. Dean is still saying nothing and obviously seething. Eyebrows furrowed, dark scowl set with a clenched jaw. Once we are in our room, door shut, food on the table, Dean throws himself into a chair and glares up at me.

“Oh, fuck me running, what?” I ask him as I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dean demands angrily. “Do you like dying?”

“Yes, it’s the greatest thrill next to riding naked on a motorcycle,” I reply sarcastically. 

“You didn’t seem to mind a bit that you’d kissed me just before you ran headfirst into an Indiana Jones-style death trap,” Dean slams his hand down on his thigh. 

“Would you have preferred that I sent you or Sam in there?” I ask waspishly. “Perhaps we could have gone to great lengths, spent tons of time and money trying to create a dummy to test the tiles out… but no!” I wag my hand dismissively. “That wouldn’t have worked because we would have had to go in with it! How about if we had rolled a big barrel along the floor to the other end? Yeah, that’s a great plan until it stops halfway through and someone has to go in and push it the rest of the way!”

“We would have come up with something,” he barks back at me.

“We don’t have that kind of time!” I snap back. “Did…” I let out a sharp exhale. “Did you seriously think I hadn’t thought about all the easier routes? I don’t want to sort of die any more than I have to. I evolve a little every time I do!”

“What do you mean?” Sam asks me, finally jumping in.

“Look at my nails,” I tell him as I hold out my hands. “They are thicker and sharper like claws. And my vocal cords feel stronger now. I’m turning into something else every time I die. I’m scared about that. What am I going to be in five, ten sort of deaths?”

“Why would your body do that?” Sam asks.

“All I know is that they had to replace DNA that was original to me in order to add their own in. Whatever else they put in there, because I wasn’t a mutant or one of their versions of a Homosapien, it must have had an adaptive quality. I mean with these nails I could have probably climbed up those walls and never had to touch the floor.”

“You think?” Sam asks as he takes my hand and looks at my claws.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done something like that. I once climbed the wooden hull of a ship using my nails.”

“See?!” Dean shouts. “Stop rushing into dangerous situations!”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I cry in disbelief. “I didn’t rush into anything when Lucifer snapped my neck and Anael ran me through. And have you forgotten? My life is one big dangerous situation. Why don’t you just come out and say what’s really bothering you.”

“I am!” he snaps.

“Uh…” Sam utters watching us as he lets go of my hand.

He seems to think that this is not something he needs to be involved with. Slowly, quietly he grabs his food, room key, car keys, and heads for the door.

“No, you’re dancing around what you really need and want to say,” I argue with him. “You started to before, but you chickened out.”

“I didn’t chicken out of shit,” Dean barks as he grips the arms of his chair tightly.

“Tell me, why does it matter that I kissed you before I did what needed to be done. Why is that such a big damn deal? Who cares? I got what we needed and I came back a little different than before, but I’m still me. On the inside.”

“No!” Dean shouts and stands up, he’s less than a foot from me. “You died… y-you… twice. You just laid there, not breathing… and I’m used to seeing…”

“So? You knew I would come back, I always do. Why won’t you believe me?”

“I do believe you…”

He grits his teeth, looking away from me.

“Then why is this such a big deal?” I ask a little softer, looking up into his face. “Dean, tell me why.” Looking back at me with a tense expression, eyes glassy, I reach up and touch his face with one hand. “Tell me, sweetie,” I whisper.

He blinks at me before he grabs me up into his arms. His cheek is wet as he presses it against mine, I can feel the hitching in his breathing.

“...I don’t…” he rasps out. “I love… you… watching you die…” a sudden sob comes at the last word. This causes me to wrap my arms around his shoulders. “...it hurts!”

I nod then and hold him tightly while he clings desperately to me.

“I know,” I tell him. “I’m sorry.”

Softly I touch his face with one hand while I rub circles on his back with the other. When his breathing comes back to an even pace I pull him over to the closest bed and have him sit down. He reaches out for my left hand and holds it, not wanting to look up at me.

“Are you embarrassed that you told me that?”

He shakes his head.

“It doesn’t matter what I said,” he says quietly. “You’ll still have to leave and I’ll never get to see you again. Who cares if I love you or not…”

“I care,” I argue suddenly. Touching his chin, I encourage him to look up at me. He reluctantly does it. “I love you too and I know someday that will mean a great deal to you too.”

He clicks his tongue and looks away from me disappointed.

“You love me like you love Sam,” he exhales harshly. “I mean, that’s great too. I guess. ...No. It is…”

“Hmm,” I hum sadly at his words, looking at his tired, handsome face. “I did something stupid.” He looks at me out of the corner of his eye sadly. “I went ahead and actually chose to be in love with you. Knowing full well I was going to end up breaking both our hearts when I have to leave. It was just…” I sigh, annoyed with myself as I clasp my hands together tightly. I shouldn’t touch him, I realize, and I step back. “It was possible not to. I thought about it, I knew better than to get closer or allow you closer, and yet here I am…  _ We _ are.”

“...Then… really…” Dean whispers looking down at his knee. “We really shouldn’t spend any more time together or be around each other… It’ll hurt less later if we just cut it off now.”

“I doubt that very much,” I reply sorrowfully. “It’s going to hurt no matter what now.”

He nods in thought a couple of times. Dean’s face and body language is showing me so much pain right now. It’s hurting my heart. My stomach muscles are tight.

“My way we’d still have to see each other until… you gotta go.”

“Yes,” I agree as I absentmindedly reach out to touch him.

I stop myself though and bite my bottom lip. He watches me do this then looks up at me sadly.

“If… If you could stay here for the rest of your life, with me and Sammy and be a hunter, would you?” 

“Do I get to die with you?” I ask eagerly, encouraging this sporadic fantasy. “In this hypothetical…”

“Yes,” he interrupts with a nod.

“Yes,” I reply quickly, sincerely. “Yes, I would.”

“You wouldn’t want to go back to your first family?”

A scoff escapes me then as I roll my head.

“How could I do that when I’m not the same woman who left? I would be a living curse to them. I would only cause them harm and that would hurt me to no end. I belong in a place like this now. Not there.”

“...With… me?”

I smile softly at him and nod.

“Yes, in that beautiful scenario, I belong here, with you…”

“Beautiful…” Dean whispers.

Dean goes quiet for a moment. Then he suddenly reaches out and pulls me against him, his lips going to mine with a voracious need. Dean grabs my thighs, pulling one up and over his leg to his hip then the other. Our clothes are little obstacles to us and soon end up wherever they were tossed. It hardly matters. My fingers are gentle, so my new claws don’t make marks as I trail them down the scared muscles of his chest to his hip. Dean bends his head down to kiss my breasts as my mouth kisses its way from his forehead to his ear. Gently I nibble at his ear lobe and then at his neck. Letting my sharp canines lightly touch his warm skin. He smells like leather, WD-40, and beer. Something about that makes my heart beat faster and my inner thighs ache. 

My lips kiss at Dean’s shoulder, his tongue is against my neck, feeling my pulse. His hands are rough from his hard life, but they are warm and desperate to touch all of me. Down my back, touching the flowers there, down my spine slowly reaching my round butt cheeks. He rubs them gently at first while I bite gently at his bottom lip. Dean seems to like the feeling of my sharp teeth as he groans softly into my mouth and grabs my cheeks a little harder. My hips press against his stomach as his hard penis presses up against my wet lower lips. His fingers squeeze my cheeks hard again and it’s my turn to make a sound deep in my throat. I like the idea of him leaving marks even though I know they won't last.

Pressing slightly against his stiffness, moving my hips back and forth teasingly, I kiss Dean deeply. Dean starts to nod slightly when I grab the hair at the back of his head with my right hand and give the follicles a light pull. With his right hand, he puts his hand into the hair at the back of my head and maneuvers my head to a new angle. His left tweaks my right nipple before squeezing the breast, and trails down to my rocking pelvis. When he gets to my now very wet lips he parts them with his finger and feels around to my clitoris. When he finds that little button-like bundle of nerves he massages it with hard pressure. A gasp escapes my mouth and goes into his. 

“Good?” he whispers.

“Mm-hmm,” I tell him with enthusiastic, quick nods. “More.”

He nods to me again and keeps at it. Rubbing my clitoris with one hand and playing with my nipples with the other, my hips rock harder against him. Dean’s very hard penis rubs against my butt cheeks and wet lips. It doesn’t take long for my desire to feel him inside of me to overwhelm my brain. Biting at Dean’s neck lightly I move his hand out from between my legs. Minding my claws I gently position him upright and take him in slowly, savoring the feeling of him sliding in. He moans into my neck as he grabs my waist harshly. Moving my hips against him once he’s fully in, I slowly pull myself off of him and then push back on.

“Yeah,” he growls. “Yea… Oh, shit…”

With one hand he grabs the back of my neck firmly, but gently, so he can press us into a deep, hungry kiss again. This doesn’t seem to be enough for him as he gives up his hold on my neck to wrap his arm around my shoulders, pulling me against his chest. With his other hand, he keeps my left leg wrapped around him so that he can swing us around, positioning himself on top of me. Taking his arm out from under me, he arranges it so that he can support himself while his other takes my leg and pulls it up. Putting the back of my knee on his shoulder he comes closer, opening up my hips wide. Then he pushes himself in all the way and at just the right angle. My eyes go wide as a breathy shriek of a moan comes from my mouth. 

Dean smiles and tenderly bites the side of my knee as he goes in and out again slowly. Touching that deep, delicious spot that seems to be so hard to find for most. Each time he presses against it I feel that tingling heat rising up from within. In and out, sighing, grunting, heavy breathing fills the room from both of us. He leans further over and kisses my breast with his wet lips, then his teeth graze the sensitive nipple, grinding his pelvic bone into my clitoris. This makes me cry out in further pleasure and suddenly I’m burning up. I grab his face, pulling him up to kiss him.

“...F-faster…” I breathe when he pulls away slightly. 

He nods as he bites his lower lip with a smile. Slowly he moves as if he hasn’t heard and while it feels great I’m about to lose my temper when he suddenly picks up pace. 

“Oh! Ah… yes, f-faster...”

“Yes… ma’am…” he whispers.

Immediately he’s slamming into me hard and I close my eyes to focus on that growing fire in my abdomen. My muscles are tightening, my thighs, my butt, my abdominals, my neck as I raise my head. I feel his lips against mine as he continues to move fast in me. My arms go around his neck as sweat slides off him and onto me. He nuzzles my neck and groans longingly. 

“Come on... baby...” Dean breaths through grunts. 

“...Harder…” I tell him quickly. He obliges and I cry out, “Yes!”

Suddenly it hits like a crashing wave and my legs shake, my arms cling to his neck. At that moment he seems to experience the same thing, his body goes rigid and a grunt-like cry escapes him. A minute passes with us laying wrapped around each other, sweating, panting. 

I don’t expect him to do what he does next, which is lift his head up, help my left leg gently down to the bed, then he looks down at me and kisses me. It isn’t a quick one. It’s passionate, loving. His big hands touch my face, pet my hair, run down my sides. He lifts his head up again and shakes it with the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen on his face.

“Let’s get in the shower then eat,” he tells me. 

I laugh at this and nod. He grins again as he touches my face. Tenderly he pulls himself out and off me. Standing up, Dean takes my hands and pulls me up onto shaky legs. Letting go of only one hand he pulls me along behind him to the bathroom. Where we spend the next twenty minutes laughing and cleaning each other. When we are back in the room, eating our food at the table, Dean looks at me as I take a bite of my burger.

“I’ve never seen you sweat before,” he says thoughtfully.

I look at him and snort a laugh.

“I’m sure I looked positively radiant,” I say with happy sarcasm.

“You did to me,” he says as he grabs some fries and shoves them into his mouth. 

“Aww!” I smile and lean over the table to kiss his salty lips. “I was far more impressed with your maneuvering. Far too many men can’t find that spot.”

He grins at me then winks.

“I’m a wizard in the bedroom.”

“A wizard, hmm?” I say coyly. “I take it you’ve… studied hard then?”  His face suddenly goes blank and pale as he looks at me in realization of what he’s just said. I smirk and go back to my burger. Dean clears his throat and looks back at his food.  “I’m teasing you,” I tell him sweetly. “I have no room to speak in matters of the bedroom. Aside from the fact that it was very enjoyable.”

He looks back at me then with a half-smile before he leans forward and kisses me softly.

“You’re pretty flexible,” he says as he pulls away. “Makes things easier.”

I wink at him and finish my food. After I clean up my mess I go over to the rather disheveled bed and start picking up clothing. When Dean is finished with his food he comes over to help me find everything. Afterward, we go back to the bed and climb in together. Straightening the sheets a little, I lay down, exhaustion suddenly taking over.

After a yawn escapes me I ask, “Are you going to let Sam know he can come back?”

“Eh… maybe,” Dean replies as he pulls me closer to him. “Might wanna do some more… studying?”

I laugh when Dean yawns and I shake my head, closing my eyes.

“Studying is for when you aren’t tired. Text your brother and go to sleep.”

I crack open an eye and kiss him softly on the lips again. Wrapping an arm around his shoulder, I push my hand into his short hair and pull my top leg up over his hip. He nods to me before his lips go after mine again hungrily, his hand going to my lower back and pulling me closer still. When he pulls away Dean grabs his phone, sends a quick text message then tosses his phone onto the nightstand. Snuggling up under my chin like the night before, Dean is quickly asleep, I follow soon after.

Sam comes back an hour later, quietly. I don’t bother to open my eyes. Dean doesn’t seem to notice or care when Sam bumps into a trash can. Our tangled up bodies don’t bother him as he climbs into his own bed. Though I do sense a feeling of pleasure from him before he drifts off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any rights to Penny Dreadful, X-Men, Supernatural, or Once Upon a Time.  
> Traveler Lavinia, Gersham, the Citadel, and the Council are mine and should not be reproduced without my permission.


	13. Chapter 13

The trip back to Lebanon, Kansas, is far more pleasant than it had been the day before. Sam insists that I take the front seat while he takes the back to, ‘allow himself to stretch out,’ he says. I know perfectly well that he is trying to give Dean and me as much time together as possible. My hand rests on Dean’s lap, wrapped in his much bigger one. Every now and then he squeezes it or pulls it up to kiss my knuckles. This kind of affection hasn’t been lavished on me for so long. I wonder briefly if the last person to hold my hand like this was Jarod. That would mean that it’s been two hundred and sixty-four years since I’ve been in love with someone who actually felt the same way. Someone who outwardly shows affection to me. Someone who wants me to stay and be theirs. It isn’t just about warming a bed or keeping them company until the mission ends. It’s deeper and I really wouldn’t mind never leaving. Dean and even Sam seem to feel the same in their own ways about me. I am part of their family. I have a family again.

Unfortunately, arriving back at the bunker throws us out of this warm haze of new love. Ketch seems to have invited himself in without so much as a text message of warning. Sam and Dean draw their guns, ready to shoot the British man dead. His hands go up defensively as he stands in the archway to the library.

“Wait!” he says quickly, a note of panic to his voice. “I come in peace.”

“Yeah, right,” Sam glares.

“Easy does it, boys,” I say softly, observing Ketch closely. “He’s scared…”

“And I’ve brought you a gift,” Ketch looks at me gratefully.

Roughly he pulls a horrifically bloody, beaten man from the shadows. His mouth is sewn shut, his clothes are filthy, and he looks like he’s scared and confused by everything. Sam’s face goes slack.

“Wait a second,” he whispers. “Is that…”

Ketch, more gently this time, pulls the man down into the command room and sits him in a chair.

“That Gabriel?” Dean asks in awe.

“No, no, that’s impossible. He…” Sam trails off. “He’s dead. We… we saw him die.”

“Or did you?” Ketch asks softly.

“Gabriel, the angel?” I ask as I slowly come toward the easily spooked man.

“Yeah,” Sam tells me.

“What did you do to him?” Dean accuses.

Gabriel jerks back violently from me as I kneel down to look at him.

“Not me,” Ketch assures them. “Asmodeus. The Prince was holding him prisoner until I liberated the poor man. And I understand you may need an archangel for a spell, perhaps.”

Gabriel won’t look at me. He just keeps twitching, ready to run or get beaten I’m not sure. Sam and Dean look at each other after hearing Ketch’s words then they look back to Ketch.

“Well, what luck,” he says.

“We need his grace,” Sam says.

Gabriel looks up terrified. 

Through his sewn lips he starts to shout, “No, no, no, no, no.”

“Shh, shh,” I tell him as I touch his hand softly. “We aren’t going to hurt you.”

“Calm down, calm down,” Ketch says at the same time.

Gabriel looks up at him and then at me and stops shouting. His breathing is heavy and muffled from his lips being forced together. Ketch nods to him then looks at me.

“Nervy…” he tells me as he reaches into his pocket. 

My hand goes to the butt of my gun under my arm. What he pulls out is a small vial of what looks like white liquid light. Ketch shows it to the brothers, then me, then to Gabriel. Then he sets it on the table.

“Here,” he tells them. “Take that. And, uh…”

He goes back into his jacket pocket. As he pulls out a golden, twisted blade dagger, I pull out my gun and aim it casually at his groin. Ketch jerks involuntarily at my gun, not Sam and Dean’s. Hands in the air, he offers it to me. The terrified look on Gabriel’s face does not escape me as I take it and put it next to the vile on the table. 

“The archangel blade,” he tells me. 

“It looks like a jagdkommando knife,” I muse. “Those are not fun to pull out.”

“You know your weapons,” Ketch says with a tone of awe.

“I have some,” I reply with a nod. “Most of which I pulled out of my own body…”

“Lavinia…” Dean growls warningly.

“Honey, you are going to have to get over this,” I tell him kindly. Then to Ketch, as I stand up, I say, “Why did you bring all these… gifts?”

“Yeah, what’s the catch?” Sam asks. “What do you want?”

“Protection,” he replies quickly and simply. “From Asmodeus.”

“I knew I detected fear,” I say softly with a nod.

“The one you’re working for…” Dean says skeptically.

“ _ Was _ working for. But when he finds out that I stole his prize milk cow,” Ketch says looking at Gabriel who twitches violently at the words. “Well, I imagine that he’ll hunt me to the ends of the Earth. So… this is the only safe place I know.”

“What?” Sam scoffs. “Do you think you’re just gonna move in?”

“...Dibs on the top bunk?” Ketch tests.

I snort a laugh as I look at him. He doesn’t smile back, though I can tell he would like to.

“No,” Sam says outright.

“Deal,” Dean says.

Sam looks at his brother in confused amazement.

“What?”

Dean looks back at his brother in an embarrassed way.

“I don’t know what the hell’s going on here,” Dean tells him as he uncocks his gun. “But if this helps us get mom back, helps us get Jack back, then… sure. Whatever you want.”

Dean throws his gun down onto the table with a defeated look on his face. Ketch looks almost relieved, aside from the fact that he also seems to realize what a huge imposition he is for the brothers. Deciding I can offer a third option, I aim my guns, in the blink of an eye, back at Ketch. This time it’s aimed between his eyes. I’m far enough away that he would have to lunge forward to try to take my gun away; I could kill him easily.

“Well, if you like,” I tell everyone. “I can come up with a third option. We keep all the lovely gifts and kill Mr. Ketch. Howeve…”

“Now, wait just a moment…” Ketch interrupts me. “I-I thought we had a deal. I thought that you and I understood each other.”

“First of all,” barks Dean. “You don’t know shit about her. Second, where is this coming from?”

I clear my throat and go on, “As I was saying, however… I honestly don’t think he has any ill intentions for us. And as he knew full well we could have taken all this stuff away and killed him anyway, he never bothered to properly bargain. Logically that would indicate that he has faith that we will be stand up people who can be trusted to do what is right. Also, I get the feeling this man really wants to be forgiven for whatever he did to you guys before.” I look at Ketch and tilt my head slightly with curiosity. “Am I correct in my thinking?”

Ketch hesitates as guilt clouds his face, then he nods.

“You are.”

“Right,” I reply. “Now, would you like me to kill him? I won’t feel a single bit of guilt.”

“R-Really?” Sam stutters in disbelief.

“Really,” I reply calmly. “I don’t do things that I will feel guilty about. It would be counterproductive in my line of work.”

“Don’t,” Dean tells me. “Just let him be.”

“Alright,” I reply cheerfully as I put my pistol back under my arm. Then to Ketch, I say, “I’m glad you get to live. I think I’ll enjoy talking to you. However, if you fuck with my people, I will cut off your head and kick it out into the yard.”

“Understood,” he tells me gratefully. 

“Wonderful,” I grin at him.

Turning back to where I had dropped my duffle, I pull out my first aid kit. Taking out what I’ll need to open Gabriel’s mouth, I go back over to him. At the same time, Sam goes to collect the vile and dagger. Sitting in front of Gabriel, I gently start to cut what appears to be a small type of cord, binding his lips.

“What the hell is this?” I mutter. “This isn’t thread…”

“What is it?” Dean asks when he comes closer.

Ketch is watching at a short distance. 

“It’s thick, like what they used to use in bookbinding,” I reply softly as I work. “What a bastard… And you said Asmodeus was milking Gabriel. Was it for his grace? Is that what’s in the vile?”

“Yes,” Ketch tells me. “That is grace and it was this man’s originally.”

“What’s he doing with it?” I ask.

“He appears to have been injecting it into himself.”

Gabriel grunts slightly as I pull the cut pieces from his lips.

“Sorry, honey,” I tell him softly. “I promise, I’m trying to be gentle.”

His eyes still look anywhere but at a single person while I work. Dean shakes his head and walks away. When I finish removing the stitches I gently start to clean his bloody mouth. Sometime later Dean comes back with a bowl, filled with fruit from the tree of life, the blood we’d collected from the holy man, the Seal of Solomon, and a bag on his back.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Dean tells Sam and me.

Sam and I look at each other.

“Well, shouldn’t we wait?” Sam asks.

“Wait? Why?” Dean turns back to Sam. “We got everything we need. Everything else is just burning daylight. Come on, let’s open this door.”

Sam taps the table in thought then nods. 

“Alright, let me gather my gear,” Sam concedes. “Vinnie, you get your stuff together too.”

“Sure,” I nod. “Let me finish taking care of Gabriel.”

“Uh… hold on,” Dean says, holding his hand out to us. “I’m heading in alone.”

“Pardon me,” I say, my head snapping around to look at him. 

“What?” Sam adds sharply.

“Look, we got a busted up archangel here,” Dean points at the man in my care. “And who the hell knows what else? Okay? Somebody’s gotta stay here just in case.”

“And I’m coming with you,” Ketch says as he comes marching around the corner. He’s in all-black tactical gear. “As I said, Asmodeus will be hunting me to the ends of the Earth, so it’s better if I’m not on this Earth.”

“It’s not that much better over there,” Sam tells him, sarcasm dripping from every word. “You know it’s a war zone, right?”

“Won’t be my first, shan’t be my last. Hmm?”

“Fine,” Dean nods to Ketch.

“Fine?” Sam and I say together.

“So, you want Ketch to go and not me? Not Vinnie?” Sam asks irritably to his brother.

“I don’t care if he dies,” Dean says flatly. “Hell, I’m kinda rootin’ for it.”

“Still, you can’t…” Sam starts.

“Damn it!” I snap standing up and whirling around. “I don’t stay dead! I’ll just come back and kick everything’s ass like I always do. Stop trying to shield me from my job!”

“I need you to stay behind, not because I’m… It’s not that,” Dean tells me in a softer tone. “Asmodeus is probably going to come here looking for Ketch and Gabe, you’re the only real line of defense we’ve got to keep him off our asses.”

“Mn-hmm,” I reply skeptically.

“Listen,” he says as he comes over to me, putting a hand to my face. “I know you can beat the shit out of anybody. I mean, we saw you take down a seventeen story monster. So, do the same thing to Asmodeus if he comes. We might end up needing Gabe later if this rescue mission fails.”

I look into his tired green eyes for a minute then I exhale heavily and nod.

“Alright,” I respond. “But if you die, I’m going to be pissed.”

He grins at me as he leans closer.

“‘Cause you love me…” he whispers.

“Because you’ll screw up my perfect record,” I reply nonchalantly with a catty smile. Dean smirks and kisses me lightly. “And ‘cause I love you.”

“Then she can stay here,” Sam interrupts. “I should be going.”

“No,” Dean turns back to him. “It takes something that’s been over there before to open up the right door, so that’s either you or me. So, I’m gonna go. And if something happens, if-if-if… time runs out, then I need you to come save me. And save mom, and save whoever else, okay? Then you all can come.”

“It’s safer if we go together,” Sam argues.

“Oh, there’s no such thing as safer over there,” Dean shakes his head. “You know that.” Sam’s teeth clench and a vein on his temple starts to pulse visibly. “I know you don’t like this, okay? I don’t expect you to. But this is the way it’s gonna be.” 

I touch Sam’s arm gently, he looks at me.

“If he does get into trouble and we have to go save him, we will get to give him shit for making us stay behind,” I tell him.

Sam gives me a weak smile.

“True…” Sam says grudgingly. “Fine, let's set the spell up.”

Sam gets to work putting the ingredients together, crushing fruit, pouring in a little blood, taking some of Dean’s hair, and a little bit of the grace from the vile. Once the grace is in the bowl there is a swirling, chiming noise in the room. Holding the Seal of Solomon over the bowl, Sam looks at his brother.

“Remember, you’ve only got twenty-four hours,” Sam says. Dean nods. “Koth Munto Notox.”

From the glowing, purple stone comes a bright jet of light. Where it ends is just past the table the bowl sits on. A white light-like tear appears, a rift. We all look at it with a mixture of joy and apprehension. Dean seems to realize that he needs to set a timer because he grabs the watch on his wrist and pushes buttons. Sam does the same, grinding his teeth again. Dean pats him on the back reassuringly before he turns to me.

“Have fun, make friends,” I tell him with a smile. “Get back here alive.”

“Can’t have you losing your high score,” he tells me with a smile.

Then he grabs my chin and pulls me in for a kiss. It’s passionate, confident, and over too soon. He turns and walks over to the rift, looking back at me and Sam once then he goes through quickly. Ketch follows him closely. I look at Sam who is staring at where Dean disappeared. 

“Come on, sweetie,” I tell him gently. “Let’s get Gabriel into a room so he can rest. Then we can make something for him to eat. Do you know what he likes?”

“...Uh, y-yeah, you’re right…” Sam says, then he turns to me. “H-he, uh… he likes sweets.”

“Sweets,” I muse as I turn to look at the dirty, bloody archangel. “I think I know just the thing. Can you turn the oven on to preheat? Three fifty.”

Sam nods and heads to the kitchen. Slowly, smoothly, I go back to Gabriel. Taking one of his hands in mine I encourage him to stand. He’s still skittish but doesn’t resist my encouragement as I lead him to a room down the hall from the kitchen.

“Now, how do strawberry preserve filled croissants rolling in brown sugar sound?” I ask him softly. “I used to make those for my baby girl. She would end up with sugar and jam all over her cheeks, grinning like a loon. I even have a can of croissants in the fridge. It’s cheating, I know, but you won’t tell. I get that feeling from you."  I smile, hoping he’s still listening. He isn’t showing any signs of it, but it doesn’t mean much in a situation like this.  “I remember, ah, this one,” I tell him as I direct him to a room I know is empty. “I remember when I was moved to a new facility after I’d been imprisoned for… gosh was it twenty-some years by that point? Hardly matters. It was such a relief to be out of the same cell I’d been forced into for decades. I got to meet other people similar to me who had been abused and experimented on. It was a relief to not be alone anymore.” I set him down on the bed and squat down to look up into his face. “I want you to know, you are not alone. You are safe. If Asmodeus comes here I will take care of him. You. Are. Safe."  I touch his cheek gently before I stand. My movements get less of a reaction from him now. I smile again.  “I’ll shut the door and let you rest. When the croissants are ready, I’ll bring them to you. Okay?”

I bow my head and walk quietly out, pulling the door shut behind me. When I get to the kitchen I find Sam on the phone. I go to the fridge and pull out the can of croissants and the strawberry jam. When I pull the baking sheet out and start working Sam gets off the phone and looks at me. 

“I just talked to Cass, he’s on his way over.”

“Sounds good,” I reply. “Do you want to help me while you wait?”

“What are you making?”

I explain and show him how to place the jam on the unrolled triangle of dough. As I unroll them, Sam spreads jam. Together we roll them up and dip them into the brown sugar I’ve put into a wide bowl. 

“Did you used to do this a lot when you were still with your family?” Sam asks.

He seems to be distracted somewhat from the fact that he didn’t get to go with Dean. I’m relieved.

“Yes. Arie and I made treats all the time. Every year she would help me make her birthday cake. She favored rainbow-colored layers.”

Sam smiles at this. 

“Apparently our mom can’t cook,” he laughs. “Dean just found out recently that she would buy everything premade from the store. Even his favorite meatloaf.”

“What is it with men and meatloaf?” I murmur.

“What do you mean?”

“Jarod loved meatloaf too. It was his favorite food, second up was sushi,” I laugh suddenly at the memory. “He was from California.”

Sam gives me an ‘ah-ha’ nod and smiles.

“I don’t know about the meatloaf thing,” Sam confesses with a half shrug. “I’m more into a healthy omelet or soup myself. Sushi’s good, too”

“I agree.”

A pleasant silence fills the room as we finish putting the croissants onto the baking sheet. Once it’s in the oven I set a timer on my communication device and go to clean up. While Sam helps he clears his throat.

“...So, y-you and uh, Dean…” he stutters. “Y-You said you, um… loved e-each other?”

“Have you always had that stutter when you get nervous?” I ask, looking over at him with soft eyes. Sam goes a little red in the cheeks at this and nods, not looking at me. “It’s sweet,” I smile. “And yes we did. I hope you’re alright with that.”

“Y-yes! Of course,” Sam looks up at me startled, nodding vigorously. 

I laugh at his reaction.

“Whoa, that’s a very enthusiastic reaction for someone else’s love confession.”

“It’s… well, you and Dean… I-I don’t know if you k-know or noticed… but you guys have been happier since you came to live here in the bunker with us. A-and… uh, he’s better… since just yesterday… I-I-I mean, see he’s been miserable for, like three years. And not, uh, off and on.”

I look at this stammering, nervous man who seems at the same time so relieved. My heart swells and thumps harder with affection. Sam cares so much about his brother. It's heartbreaking to me when I remember that I will hurt them both when I walk through my door. Tears are threatening to come to my eyes then so I push the thought out of my head and pull Sam into a hug. This startles him.

“Thank you for caring so much about Dean like you do,” I tell him. “And thank you for caring about me too. You are a wonderful brother and person.”

A moment goes by before Sam wraps his arms around me and he chuckles.

“Well, it’s not like it’s hard when you’re practically a sister,” he tells me.

I lean back and look up at his smiling face.

“I would love to be your sister, I’d boss you around so bad.”

He laughs jovially and lets me go. 

“You and Dean both.”

“Sam! Lavinia!” Castiel shouts down the hall.

“Kitchen!” I call to him.

Just about the time that he walks in it’s time to go get the croissants out of the oven. Castiel enters the kitchen looking a little exasperated.

“You mean to tell me that Dean is in Apocalypse World, alone?” he blurts looking at us in disbelief.

“Hello, to you too, dear,” I reply with a smile. To Sam, “Could you get a plate?”

Sam hands one to me and I begin loading it with the baked treats.

“No,” Sam says to Castiel, “he’s with Ketch. So, he’s not alone.”

Castiel shakes his head as I walk by him. Sam and Castiel follow me to Gabriel’s room.

“Because that makes it better,” Castiel says with exasperation. 

Sam scoffs, “Cass, he wanted to go solo.”

“And you let him?!” 

“Let?” I snort as we stop to look at each other. “What in the world makes you think that you  _ let _ Dean do anything in situations like this. He was bound and determined to do this his way.”

Now Sam sighs heavily, “He didn’t give me much of a choice. Anyways, Dean’s right.”

“Ah, so you’re agreeing with him now?” I smile and start walking again.

“Well, as long as he’s over there, and we’re here… we do need to take care of Gabriel. Get him right again.”

“True,” I nod. “And if we end up needing more grace, I’m not sure how we are going to get that with how Gabriel is right now.”

“How does he look?” Castiel asks.

“Um… well, like he was brutalized for a long time and now he’s voluntarily gone mute because he’s terrified,” I reply. “So… not well.”

When we get to the room, Sam opens the door to a very dark interior. He must have turned out the lights when I left. 

“Gabriel?” Sam calls into the dark as he turns on the light switch.

When the light comes on we look around the room for Gabriel. He’s no longer on the bed but tucked beside the dresser that’s not too far from the far corner of the room. Holding his knees up against him, dirty feet poking out, head against his knees.

“You weren’t exaggerating,” Castiel whispers.

“Hey, Gabriel,” I call softly as I slowly move into the room. “I brought those yummy croissants I told you about. Would you like to try one?”

Sam and Castiel follow slowly behind. When I get closer I slowly lower myself down to the ground and sit cross-legged in front of him. He doesn’t lift his head as I hold up the plate to him. 

“Hey, pal,” Sam calls to him. “These smell pretty great. You wanna give ‘em a try?”

Sam touches Gabriel’s shoulder softly and Gabriel flings his arms wildly before he shies away.

“Okay. Oh... Just… Can we maybe get you to the bed?” Sam asks.

“Or would you rather stay here?” I butt in.

Gabriel looks down quickly.

“It would be more comfortable on the bed,” I assure him. “I bet you haven’t gotten to have something nice like that in a while. Can we try?”

Sam comes around me and gently takes Gabriel’s elbow. Gabriel looks at him as Castiel takes his other, I quickly get up and move out of the way. While I set the plate of treats on the dresser they get the busted archangel onto the bed. 

“Do you remember me?” Sam asks. “Sam Winchester?”

There isn’t any kind of response.

“I don’t think he does…” Castiel says softly.

“Remember the video you sent me and my brother, Dean Winchester… after you supposedly died?” There’s a soft, closed mouth grunt from Gabriel but it’s not a response to the question. “You told us how to stuff Lucifer back in the cage.”

“Sam, he doesn’t…” Castiel starts.

“I know he doesn’t. I’m just… trying to see if anything’s going on in his head.”

“There most certainly is,” I reply with mild irritation. “He is very much listening. But right now he’s dealing with sensory overload in some areas and the lack of sensory from others. How he’s been kept, I have no doubt, is vastly different than how we are doing it right now.”

“Well, okay… I’ve got…” Sam says as he digs in his pocket. He pulls out the vile with the remaining grace and shows it to us. “Maybe if he’s juiced up it’ll help.”

“Maybe…” I reply as I watch Gabriel’s face. “But I don’t think he’s interested right now. I think he just needs…”

“Let’s just try,” Sam says as he pulls the cap off, not bothering to listen to me.

Bending down to look Gabriel in the eye, Sam gets closer, pushing it toward the angel’s mouth. Gabriel makes a startled grunt and moves away from it. Sam pushes it again towards Gabriel’s mouth. He moves his head away. 

“Sam I don’t think he’s going to open up and let the choo-choo in,” Castiel says. Sam looks at him quizzically. “A technique for feeding recalcitrant children. And… I think a little coercion may be necessary.”

Gabriel hums softly and tunelessly to himself.

“I think that’s a bad idea,” I whisper. 

I’ve seen plenty of people, when they are upset, rock and hum tunelessly to themselves in an effort to make themselves feel comfortable.

“I’ll be gentle,” Castiel tells me.

They both reach for him to try and help open his mouth. Gabriel grunts and starts to shout indistinctly. When he starts to struggle and push them away Sam gets a bit more vocal.

“Hey, hey, hey! Whoa! Hey!”

“Aah!” Gabriel screams, flinging himself off the bed and into the other corner.

“What did I say,” I hiss at them. 

Castiel and Sam look down like chastised puppies. Then they look at Gabriel who is writhing around, covering his head, panting and crying. I walk around the bed silently, grabbing a blanket off the bed, and sit down two feet away from the terrified man. I motion for them to leave.

“Hey, sweetie,” I whisper softly. “If you're alright with it, I’m going to sit here. Just in case you need anything.” I look at him cowering. “They aren’t going to do that again. I won’t let them. Are you cold? Maybe you’d like to hide?”

He peeks out briefly from under an arm.

“Ah,” I smile gently. “I can help with that. 

I stand slowly. Moving closer with the blanket. He twitches and grunts as I do.

“When my daughter would get scared of thunder,” I tell him in a soft voice as I squat down. “I would get her a soft blanket and wrap it around her shoulders like this. Then I’d pull it up over her head…” I pull the blanket up and over like a hood, covering him completely, except for a tiny window at his face. “Then I would hug her and rock her until she wasn’t scared anymore. But I don’t think you want me to touch you just yet. So, I’ll leave you to hide. Okay?” 

He doesn’t respond, just peeks out from the little blanket window. I smile and stand to go. Suddenly there’s a hand grabbing my wrist. The hood falls down from his head and he looks at me pleadingly. I nod, knowing what he wants, and sit back down. Scooting a little closer to his side, pulling his hood back up, I pull him into a one-arm embrace.

“It’s alright,” I whisper. “You’re safe. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

We spend some time like that and at some point, I seem to doze off, not quite sure how that happened. When I wake up, the silent beaten angel is tapping my shoulder gently. My eyes open in a flash and I realize I haven’t heard anything while I was out. I was literally, completely asleep!

“How did that happen?” I whisper in a panic. “Are you alright?!”

I touch his arms and shoulders. His eyes go big as he watches me panic. Now it’s his turn to put the blanket around me. This causes me to stop, then laugh as I peek out from under it and look up at him. 

“Thank you,” I tell him. “I’m alright now. Are you… Whoa…”

I look past him at the room walls, my mouth opens in shock. There are strange symbols in black marker all over the walls and the furniture. It wasn’t there before. Gabriel shuffles over to the bed and sits as I stand and look around. 

“Gabriel, did you do all this?” I ask in awe. 

He half nods. 

“It’s a different language… is it angel language?” 

Another half nod. Gently I put the blanket around his shoulders again and rub his back, deep in thought.

“I need to go tell Sam and Castiel,” I tell him. “Will you stay here?”

This time I get a full nod. 

I find the other men in the library, talking. 

“Come, now,” I tell them. “He’s written something on the walls in your angel language.”

“Enochian?” Castiel asks in surprise.

“That’s what he told me,” I reply.

“Wait, you mean… h-he spoke to you?” Sam asks wide-eyed.

“Not verbally,” I reply. “I asked, he nodded. Come on.”

They rush to Gabriel’s room. As Castiel looks around he lets out a sigh.

“It’s his story,” he tells us. “It starts with his death. Or… what appeared to be his death. ‘ Per usual,  my brother had double my brawn and half my brains. He assumed the counterfeit me was what vanished that night, and he thought he had stabbed the real thing. The truth is, the thing Luci skewered was a fake. There are plenty of fakes to go around. Everyone believed, Gabriel, was gone. And suddenly, I was free. No obligation to God or Heaven, or mankind. And so, I did what anyone would do, I moved to Monte Carlo and shaked up with porn stars.’”

“Excuse me, what?” I balk.

“Once you get to know him, that’s not too surprising,” Castiel assures me. He continues on, “Well, y…” he sighs. “He goes on and on for quite a while about porn stars and, uh…”

“Cass, please,” Sam says, closing his eyes with annoyance.

“Okay, so… Gabriel was captured, delivered to Asmodeus. ‘For years, I knew nothing but endless torture. Asmodeus, once the weakest of Hell’s princes, grew strong by feeding on my grace.’” 

The story seems to stop there as Castiel turns around to look at Gabriel. 

“Well, at least his intellect is intact,” Castiel reasons.

“Yeah. So, why isn’t he talking to us?” Sam asks.

“It’s not uncommon for a person to voluntarily go mute after such a traumatic and obviously long experience,” I tell them.

“Maybe because of that, he thinks it’s safer that way,” Sam says. “W-What if you tried to heal him?”

I look at Sam confused.

“Me?” I ask. “My blood won’t fix his mind…”

“No, Castiel,” Sam tells me. “Although… I hadn’t really thought about you…”

“My blood won’t heal his mind,” I repeat slowly.

“And my powers can’t heal an archangel,” Castiel tells him.

“Just try?” Sam pleads. 

Castiel sighs and puts his hand to Gabriel’s forehead. A low ringing sounds from Castiel’s hand as it lights up where it touches Gabriel’s skin.

“I must reiterate, it’s not possible for an angel to heal an archangel,” he says as he focuses. Sam paces back and forth like a nervous cat. “I’m going to try to jolt his mind into thinking straight though.” Castiel opens his eyes and pulls his handoff, the ringing stops. “Even then, Sam… Gabriel… it’s-it’s possible that he’s lost.”

I look at Gabriel who is no longer crying or cringing. He’s just sitting on the bed staring straight ahead as if he’s zoning out. 

“I think he’s getting better,” I reply. 

“He isn’t talking, he’s just sitting there…” Sam says impatiently.

“Yes, and he’s not afraid anymore,” I say as I point at his face. “That’s not the face of someone in a catatonic state or afraid to be hurt again. He’s thinking.”

“...I-I really don’t think that… It’s nice of you to want to believe that…” Castiel tells me.

“Don’t pat me on the head like I’m a child,” I snap at him. “You guys have been acting like he’s a lost cause since we got him. But look what he did.” I point to the walls. “He did all that after communicating with me that he wanted me to stay in the room with him. He told you he didn’t want to take his grace and  _ you  _ ignored him.  _ You _ two are the current problem, not him. So stop it. Open your eyes and watch his body language. He speaks volumes.” 

They look at me abashed before they look at him again. After a beat, they look back at me.

“Well, not right now!” I snap. “He’s thinking.” 

“...How do you even know that?” Sam says with exasperation.

I point at Gabriel’s thumb as it moves over his arm in a slow rhythm.

“...Thinking,” I say sharply.

“Holy shit…” Sam says amazed. 

“Why don’t you park yourself in a chair and just wait.”

“Wait for what?” Sam asks.

“For him to tell you something,” I reply. “That’s what he did for me.”

I point at the walls. Sam looks around and finally nods. Castiel shakes his head and walks out while I go over to a wall and lean against it. I do a little more dozing while Sam sits in silence. An hour passes before I hear Sam sigh.

“I can’t do this,” Sam exhales, getting up. “Gabriel, you have to dig yourself out of this hole. Look, I get that you think it’s safer inside. No more torture. No more pain. No more expectations. I’ve been there.” I open my eyes and look at Sam. “You were nothing like your family. You sure as hell weren’t like your dad. Me either. And just like you, I got out. Or I-I  _ thought _ I got out. But then... then my family needed me. And this is my life. No matter how many times I tried to fight it,  _ this _ is what I was put here to do. This is where I make the world a better place. And sure, yeah, hookers in Monte Carlo sounds great, but your family needs you. Jack, your nephew, needs you.”

“Uh!” I sigh with pain and happiness at that. “And, wow, Jack is one of the sweetest people I’ve gotten to meet here!”

Sam nods and keeps looking at Gabriel.

“He is. He needs you bad. The world needs you. We need you… Gabriel,  _ I _ need you. So, please, help us.”

I watch as Gabriel doesn’t move, he doesn’t react at all. Sam’s eyes get a little glassy as he looks from the archangel down to the floor. Gritting his teeth he nods to himself before he starts to head for the door. 

As he reaches out for the doorknob a gruff yet soft voice says, “Porn stars.” Sam whips around shocked. “They were porn stars, Sam,” Gabriel says then his eyes briefly light up a bright blue.

“There you are,” I smile at him. 

He looks at me and smiles back. 

“You did say I wasn’t alone,” he tells me. “Didn’t think about how there was more than just you and me.”

“I wish everyone would realize, as fast as you, that I’m right,” I say with a grin. 

He winks at me while Sam shuffles his feet and rolls his eyes.

“Pretty ladies,” he says, looking from me to Sam. “How can they be wrong.”

“Easy there, tiger,” Sam says quickly. “She’s spoken for.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows go up a little. 

“By you, Sam?” he asks surprised. Leaning toward me, he whispers, “I like a little competition.”

“No, Dean,” I whisper non too quietly back.

Sam rolls his eyes and calls for Castiel.

“I still like my odds,” Gabriel flirts.

Castiel comes in and is quickly told what’s going on by Sam, leaving out the flirting parts. Hastily, Castiel digs into his pocket and pulls out the vile of grace. Gabriel takes it eagerly into his own possession, opens the top, and sucks it into his mouth like air. There’s a high pitched ringing as it goes in then it stops. Gabriel sits on the bed and looks to be waiting for something.

“Is it working?” Castiel asks him.

“I… I don’t know,” replies the other angel with a flip of his hand.

Suddenly Sam’s phone rings, making him jump. When he answers it, he puts it on speaker.

“Hello?” Sam asks.

“Samuel,” comes a southern fried man’s voice. 

Gabriel jumps and starts to whimper. I look from the angel to the phone and glare. Coming around the other side of the bed from Castiel, I take Gabriel’s hand.

“I hope you’re having a pleasant day,” says the voice of Asmodeus. The room seems to fill with fear as he goes on, “It’s come to my attention you boys and your little girlfriend have something that belongs to me, and I’d like it back.”

_ Ketch must have told him about me… _

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam tells him calmly.

“Oh, I believe you do. And I’m-a give you one chance to return him to me. No harm, no foul.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Do not hang up on me,” Asmodeus growls angrily, a complete one-eighty from before. “Gabriel is of no use to you in his current condition. Should you choose to resist me, I will have no choice but to take him by force. I will reduce you and that sad little bunker…”

In a flash, I’ve grabbed the phone from Sam’s hand and cut the demon off.

“You may know that a ‘little girlfriend’ lives here, you might even know my name. But you have no idea what I am or what I can do. I’ve taken on demons and fallen angels, monsters, beasts, and much more stronger things than you. So, if you’re lookin’ to start shit, I should tell you, I woke up this morning wishing a motherfucker would.”

With nothing else to say, I hang up and drop the phone into Sam’s hand. 

“Hide here,” I tell them. “I’m gonna go get my sword.”

“No!” Gabriel cries out to me. “You don’t know what he’s like.”

I turn at the door and smile kindly at him. 

“That hardly matters. He should be more concerned about me.” I look back at Sam and Castiel, “I’m a wild card, remember?”

Sam smirks in agreement and looks at Gabriel.

“She's right,” I hear Sam say.

When I’m in my room , the bunker goes dark. The power loudly fails and alarms start to sound. Grabbing Tasuke Mamoru from its place on the desk I start to head down the hall back to the command room. As I get closer I hear the sounds of battle. Calling upon the power of my sword, I unsheath it and peek around the corner. There are men attacking Sam and Castiel, though how they got in, I’m not too sure. As I understood it, the bunker is warded against demons. When the last one is taken down by Castiel, the two men look at each other with confusion, then go flying back into a control panel. 

“You’re wardin’ wasn’t designed for the likes of me, Samuel,” says a man in an all-white suit happily. He has longer hair and a beard streaked with white; This is Asmodeus. “I’ve come to claim what’s mine,” he informs with a grin as he puts his hands behind his back. “And to meet the little lady that wants me to… ‘start some shit,’ I believe was what she said.”

Gabriel is suddenly dragged down the other hall by two tall black eyed men and hoisted up before the demon Prince. He’s terrified as he looks around. Asmodeus turns his back to where I’m standing to walk toward Gabriel.

“Oooh, I missed you, boy,” he tells the whimpering angel. “I’m-a have to punish you rather severely, I’m af…”

Without much more prompting I swing Tasuke Mamoru down with measured force, enough to strike Asmodeus in the back and cut him almost completely in half. There is a sharp crack and then that tell-tale sizzling sound of a demon soul being erased. As they all look in shock at the crumpling halves of the last demon Prince of Hell, I rush forward and cut off the heads of the two demons who had dragged Gabriel out. Gabriel looks at me for a moment then behind me.

“Lavinia!” Sam shouts.

I already know they’re there, but I chose to not move because I see Gabriel’s eyes light up with that blue light again and I want to encourage him to embrace his strength. I blink and suddenly his once blood-covered face and filthy clothes are now clean. He points a finger at the demons behind me. They scream briefly then stop. When I turn around I see two piles of ash.

“Looks like Stella got her groove back,” I reply with a grin as I look back at Gabriel.

“Yeah,” he says with a smile. “Thanks. By the way, where can I get a sword like that?”

“You have to go to a different world and make friends with a demon named, Totosai.”

“What… like from Inuyasha?” he asks me skeptically.

“Yeah,” I laugh in surprise. “You’ve seen the show?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t see you in it.”

“You wouldn't. Travelers are never seen. I just made sure that some things happened a certain way. You also won’t find me in any of the comic books I’ve been in. The Citadel makes sure that Travelers are more like tertiary characters.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Gabriel looks at me, utterly confused. 

While Sam and Castiel put the bunker back to rights, I explain what my job is and why I’m in his world. Gabriel seems relatively fine with accepting what I’ve just told him. However, that quickly disappears when Castiel comes over to explain the current state of affairs in this world and where Dean is. 

“We may need your help to fight the other Michael,” Castiel tells him.

“What?” he says in disbelief.

“Yeah,” agrees Sam. “Welcome to the team.”

“Uh… yyyeeeah,” Gabriel says slowly. “Not so much. I mean, thank you for the rescue and the redemption arc. But, uh, I’m not really a team guy, so… I’m gonna bounce, okay? I mean, you don’t need me, you’ve got an Amazon right here,” he points to me.

“Unless Michael interferes with my mission, which is to get this family back together in this world, I won’t be touching him,” I inform Gabriel. “I wouldn’t have even touched Asmodeus if he hadn’t threatened the guys.”

“Well, change your plans,” he tells me.

“That is not how I do things, first of all,” I inform him. “Second, why do I have to accommodate you? Selfishness is not an attractive color on you. But moving past that, I have no idea how long I’m going to be here or, more importantly, if I will be here when Michael comes. If not, they will need someone to help fight him. You  _ have _ to provide back up.”

“Yeah, that sounds like the opposite of fun,” he tells me as he starts to walk toward the door.

“Are you a child?” I snap, causing him to stop and turn to look at me. “Did I just babysit a child?!”

“Y-you can’t just go, Gabriel,” Sam tells him. “If Michael comes here he will end this world. We need all hands on deck for this.”

“And the last time the world was ending, I put my money on you guys,” Gabriel tells him. “I think you can pull it off again.”

He turns back around and starts to walk off once more.

“No,” demands Castiel. “You cannot turn your back on your father’s creation.”

Gabriel turns to look at the other angel.

“My father turned his back on  _ his _ creation. Guess it just runs in the family.”

“Alcoholism runs in mine,” I reply snappily. “But I never became one. Why don’t you just admit that you’re a punk ass bitch. Then it might be more forgivable when you run.”

Gabriel glares at me while Sam shakes his head.

“Gabriel, please,” Sam starts.

There is the sudden sound of flapping wings and Gabriel disappears. 

“Damn it!” I hiss. 

“It’s okay,” Sam tells me with a nod. 

His face doesn’t say he really believes what he’s just said. I sigh and start chewing on my bottom lip. 

_ I can feel that things are coming to a close for me. What will that look like for this family? _

“If I end up having to leave before we deal with the Michael thing…” I whisper in dread.

“No, don’t do that,” Sam tells me, grabbing me by the shoulders so I have to face him. “Don’t think like that. You’re always the one who has this spring of never-ending hope. We need that right now. We know you’ve got our backs.”

I grit my teeth and nod as I stomp a foot.

“Yes. Okay,” I reply pushing the fear away. 

A flickering sound comes from the library then, causing us to look in. The glowing rift grows dim, almost disappearing, then flashes back brighter. Quickly we go to it, watching in worry.

“It’s closing,” Sam tells me. 

“Dean’s hasn’t come back yet though,” I say. “And with Gabriel gone, we don’t have any grace to open another portal.”

It flickers again and we all involuntarily twitch at the sight. The sound of electricity crackles quietly for a moment then gets louder. The rift flashes brightly and suddenly Dean is chucked out and landing on the floor, catching himself from falling.

“Dean!” I shout.

“Hey! Hey,” Sam calls as we both go to him. 

Dean stands up slowly, wobbly. There’s a bullet hole in his right shoulder.

“You’re hurt,” Sam says at the same time Dean grunts, “Hey.”

Sam grabs at his jacket, but Dean pushes him away as he looks back to the rift.

“No, no. I’m fine. I’m fine.”

The rift flickers then zips into itself, disappearing. When he turns back around he taps his brother on the chest affectionately.

“The-the… rift, it’s…” Sam stutters. “Where’s mom? Where’s Jack?”

Dean breathes heavily as he lets his bag fall to the ground. 

“Long story, so mom and the kid, they’re not with Michael anymore. Ketch and Charlie are staying back to try to find them,” he says, looking at Sam with tired joy. “There’s a Charlie over there. She kicks ass.”

“T--uh, Charlie… Bradbury?” Sam says confused.

“Yeah,” Dean nods.

“Who?” I ask.

“Uh, i-in our world, she was, uh... a really close friend. Well, more like a little sister. But she was killed,” Sam explains.

“And gay,” Dean chimes in quickly as he looks at me. “She very much liked women. Probably would have had a crush on you.”

I smile at him and giggle, “It’s cute that you think I can get jealous.”

He grins at me tiredly as he pulls me into a hug. 

“Whoa, what’s this?” he asks, looking over my shoulder. “What did I miss?”

Keeping an arm around me he pulls us toward the mess in the command room.

“There was a demon incursion, led by Asmodeus,” Castiel tells him.

“Sorry,” Dean says, turning around in disbelief. “Asmodeus got in here?”

“Yeah, and-and Lavinia killed him to save Gabriel,” Sam tells him.

Dean looks at me proudly.

“That’s my girl,” he says in a soft sexy growl. Then he looks back to Sam, “So, how’s Gabriel?”

“Well, he’s better,” Castiel says apprehensively. “One might say that he is back to his usual self.”

“That’s great,” Dean cheers. “Where is he?”

“He just left,” Castiel says looking down in disappointment.

“Little shit ran off like an ungrateful prick,” I hiss. 

Dean looks at me then Castiel. His eyes close tiredly.

“What do you mean, he left?”

“We asked Gabriel to help us, and then…” Castiel says with a sigh. “Then he said, ‘no.’”

Sam looks at his brother like a beaten dog, Castiel does likewise.

“He doesn’t get to say, ‘no.’ We still have his grace, though, right?” Dean asks.

“Nope,” I reply pulling back to look him full on. “We gave it to him when he finally started talking to help him get back on his feet. Not be so weak.”

“T-t-to, uh, heal him,” Sam jumps in.

Dean shifts from one foot to the other and grinds his back teeth angrily. 

“So, if it’s gone, then that means that we can’t open that door again,” Dean says, getting progressively louder. “If we can’t open the door, then I should’ve never come back!” He bows his head trying to suppress the anger. Then he grabs a book from the table next to him and throws it. “Son of a bitch! Every time!” He turns away from all of us, grabbing the back of his head, dragging his nails through his hair. Quieter, he adds, “Every time we get close, it always falls apart… Every freakin’ time.”

“Dean…” Castiel says. “We will find Gabriel. We will.”

“We better,” Dean growls before he stomps off to his room.

I sigh and look at Castiel and Sam. 

“You two act like whipped dogs,” I snap. “I get that he’s frustrated and angry, but don’t bend your heads down for him to stomp on. None of you deserves that.”

“...H-He wasn’t yellin’  _ at _ us,” Sam tells me. “Dean was just, uh, letting off steam. He’s just mad about the situation…”

I look at him thoughtfully, my irritation subsiding. 

Nodding a couple of times I tell them in a kinder voice, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you either. I’ll go make something for dinner. Maybe that will cheer us up.”

Sam nods before I turn to leave, but he catches me with his words before I’m out of sight.

“You were right, though. We have no reason to act that way with him. But… cou-could you remember what I said?” Turning around then, I look at him with a raised eyebrow. “We need you to keep being our source of hope.”

“Then I shall keep doing my job,” I inform him with a soft smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any rights to Penny Dreadful, X-Men, Supernatural, or Once Upon a Time.  
> Traveler Lavinia, Gersham, the Citadel, and the Council are mine and should not be reproduced without my permission.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You ever wondered what the Council is like? Meet the Quods.   
> Name Guide:  
> Quod: What Is  
> Quod Sit: What Should Be  
> Quod Si Non: What Must Never Be

With a sandwich and my first aid kit in hand, I go to Dean’s room. Knocking a couple of times I wait patiently, when no reply comes I slowly open the door and look in. Dean is sitting on the end of his bed, shirt off, looking at the bullet hole in his shoulder. It’s an angry red, surrounded by a huge, dark purple bruise. Silently I come in, shutting the door behind me. Walking over to him I hold out the sandwich. Dean ignores me as well as the sandwich.

“...Dean,” I call softly, “eat something and let me take care of that.”

“...I’m fine,” he tells me, his voice low and gruff.

I kneel in front of him, placing the kit on the floor next to me, the sandwich on top of it. Dean refuses to look at me as I place my hands on his knees, looking up at his dirty face. 

“How would you have preferred we did things?” I ask softly.

There is a long silence before Dean exhales loudly and closes his eyes.

“I don’t know,” he tells me defeatedly. “You guys did what you had to, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” I nod. “But you were so angry… you said you should have stayed back in Apocalypse World…”

He opens his eyes and looks at me then, there’s a lot of hurt in them.

“I-I… didn’t mean…” Dean says softly as he touches my hands. “...I don’t want to be away from you. It’s just that we could have gotten more done if I’d stayed behind.”

I nod in understanding at this.

“That makes sense. But did you think about the fact that when your family is reunited back in this world my mission will be completed and I’ll have to leave?” Judging by his stricken expression I know he hadn’t. “If you had stayed behind,” I go on softly as I look at our hands on his knees, “I wouldn’t have seen you again for who knows how long…”

“...And you’d probably have to leave when we did,” he whispers.

I nod again.

“I know you miss your mother and you’re worried about Jack. Now you’ve found some people that you knew in this world are alive over there and you want to save them too. I adore you for all of that… Forgive me,” I trail off, closing my eyes in irritation at myself. “I’m being selfish and I don’t have any right to be…” 

Shaking my head to clear it a bit, I develop a more business-like manner; externally. On the inside, I am screaming and crying because I want to hold onto this man with everything I have and am. My heart is hurting, my stomach is twisting into knots. It is wrong for me to feel this way and it is self-inflicted torture. I will have to leave very soon and I’ve just doomed my heart to suffering. 

_ I’ve so very badly screwed up. _

Taking my hands from Dean’s, I pick up the sandwich, hand it to him, and stand with my first aid kit in my hands. Outwardly, I’ve changed into a placid, all business Traveler. I get to work on Dean’s wound ignoring the change in the atmosphere. He’s concerned at first, watching me. Steadily his concern turns into worry, then an angry panic. 

“What are you doing?” he demands in a growl. 

“Don’t ask ridiculous questions when you can figure it out on your own,” I tell him.

“I’m not talking about this,” he snaps as he grabs my working hands.

I easily pull them out from his calloused fingers and get back to applying ointment and bandage, not looking at his face. He puts the food down on his bed and grabs me by my shoulders, standing in a way so that we are face to face. Bending slightly he gets eye level with me. 

“Why are you acting like that?” he growls. “Like you don’t care about anything anymore?”

“I’m simply distancing myself,” I reply with a shrug, looking away. “It’s the smarter choice. You were right, you should have stayed over there and sped things up. And I should be doing my job to reunite you guys quickly. I should not be…” I bite my lip harder than I mean and accidentally draw blood with my sharp fangs. “...Oops…”

Dean’s hands beat me to my mouth. He wipes away the blood with worry in his eyes, the anger gone. My heart beats hard at his concern for me.

“I was wr…” Dean starts.

His words are cut off though when my communication device sounds an alarm tone that makes me grit my teeth. It’s a three-note trilling that plays several times on repeat. I don’t need to look down to see what it says. I already know. 

[Alert! Citadel commands your presence immediately. Your hearing is scheduled in five minutes.]

“What’s that?” Dean asks, confused.

“I’m in trouble,” I tell him as I remove myself from his hands.

Without any other words, I make my way to my door, Dean following behind me.

“What do you mean, ‘you’re in trouble,’?” Dean asks loudly.

“I mean the Citadel is calling me in to bitch at me about something.”

“What would they have to bitch at you for?”

“Swing a cat and you’ll hit about five to seven hundred reasons they could be doing this,” I reply through gritted teeth. 

We’re entering the command room when we hear Sam shout, “Lavinia! Dean!”

I perk up at this, why is he yelling for me? We quicken our pace to the library to find seven humanoid androids in blue uniforms standing in a line. One holds my door open, the others are lined up, one after the other, next to it. They are obviously not human with their white, human-ish faceplates over a metal skeleton and wires. 

“What the hell are they?” Sam asks in horror. “Why did they come out of your door?”

“They are the Citadel police force,” I reply dully. “They don’t usually come through the door though. Typically they are waiting on the other side to escort me to a hearing.” I walk closer to them. “State your reason for coming into a story in progress,” I command.

“Traveler Lavinia,” says the computerized, emotionless voices of the seven in unison. “Your presence is required at the Citadel immediately. We are here to bring you and your charges to your hearing.”

“My charges too?” I ask in surprise. “Why would they need to come?”

“They’re presence is requested,” is all that they say.

“That didn’t answer the question, metalhead,” Dean snaps.

“They probably don’t have that information,” I tell them. “They are really just enforcers. They are programmed to bring in Travelers who might be very dangerous and violent. Don’t do anything that could be perceived as a threat. They don’t have a problem breaking body parts. Their program has made sure of that.” To the androids, I say, “Some of the charges are not in this world and will not be able to come. These three are the only ones available.”

“That will do,” they say together. 

I nod and look back at Sam, Dean, and Castiel. 

“We need to follow them. Come on.”

“Is it safe?” Castiel asks. 

“For you,” I nod. “I’m the one who is going to be on trial.”

Stepping forward I hold my hands out to the closest android. I know this procedure well enough by now. Cold white plated fingers reach out and put cuffs on my wrists. This won’t stop me from doing anything, the Citadel knows it, but they are sticklers for formalities and rules. The one that puts the cuffs on, places its heavy fingers on my shoulder, and guides me to the door. I look over my shoulder at the guys.

“Come on,” I tell them calmly. “Don’t walk slowly. They won’t be nice about it.”

They move quickly, Sam taking his jacket off and giving it to Dean to cover his naked torso. Walking into the black nothing beyond my door, I step into a high ceilinged hallway with murals of famous stories portrayed in colorful tiles, shining colored glass, and precious stones. Each mural is framed by columns of white stone. The light in the hall is from a skylight that runs the length of the hall itself. There is other hidden lighting behind and under decorative edge work along the ceiling edges. 

“This is the Citadel?” Sam asks in awe. 

I nod.

“This is the hallway to the hearing chamber,” I tell him. 

“What are these murals?” Castiel asks.

“Stories,” I tell him. “In their raw and original form. Rapunzel, Snow White, The Great Gatsby, Robin Hood, so on. Stories that get retold, rebooted, jacked up. There’s even highly favored anime in other hallways. Any story that has and continues to be ravaged by fan fiction, reimaginings, and what not are portrayed within the Citadel walls. We, Travelers, are supposed to make sure that they are not altered past their most important original moments.”

“Where is this Citadel?” Castiel asks. “Is it in another world?”

“No,” I reply as we continue to walk. “It exists in a small bubble of time and space that is without the worlds and their own spin-off worlds. That is how we can get to each with such ease.”

“H-How did this place come to exist?” Sam asks.

“It was created out of a need for order by stories themselves,” I answer. “Each story is a world of its own. And while it is a creation of the mind of its writer or writers, it still has a life force all its own. When they started being retold and brutalized by fans and other writers, they cried out and created this place. When that happened The Council of Three were made to oversee things. They are human-ish but quite ancient in a way. As long as stories have been told, they are that old. They are the ones who developed the doors, thanks to the tools this place was given. They are also the ones who created these androids and set up the idea to collect humans from my Earth to become travelers.”

“What’s so special about your Earth?” Dean asks. 

“We don’t have the kind of magic that yours does,” I tell him. “Ours is more subtle, culminating in small miracles and acts of love or, on the darker side, out of malice and rage. Really, it would seem that we had none at all but it’s not true. This has made my Earth develop such creative minds, the kind that created your world and the others I’ve been to.”

“Do mean to say that… your, uh, Earth is the one that… uh, o-originated all stories?” Sam stutters.

“I do,” I tell him. 

“That’s insane,” Sam tells me.

“Really, Sam?” I ask slightly annoyed. “Look where you are and at me. Is what I just said really that insane?”

“Why did they pick you,” Dean says, moving over what I said without concern.

“Travelers are picked by how creative they are,” I remind him. “I’m very, very creative. Which has proven really useful, however, it also means that I don’t conform so well.”

“So, they don’t like you,” Castiel says with an ah-ha tone.

I nod as we stop in front of the red doors of the hearing room. One of the androids pushes open the doors and then we march in. The room is circular in shape, two stories in height with large windows up at the top that let in light. At the far end of the room from the door sit the Three Council Members. Professional suits, identical in color, their hair is only different in hue, white, grey, black. They don’t seem to have gender as they are neither masculine nor feminine in appearance. Their hair is styled and cut in a unisex short shag. 

The one with white hair is Quod, What Is. The one with black hair is Quod Si Non, What Must Never Be. The one with grey hair Quid Sit, What Should Be. Their eyes are a pale, cold blue as they look at me, a collective irritation as I’m led to the beige stone judgment box in the middle of the room.

“Charges will be seated here,” says one android behind me to the guys.

They are directed to a small row of chairs at my right. Those aren’t usually here, they were obviously brought in for this special occasion. One android stays near me, another stays by the guys, while the others line the walls near the door. I hear the door we just came in open and the pounding of footsteps coming closer. Turning to look around I see Gersham hustling over to the Council with a tablet in his hand. He’s out of breath.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes with a deep bow to them. “I didn’t mean to be late, but the last updates were coming… I-I’ve got them.”

He holds up his tablet. Quod Si Non holds their hand out. Gersham gives over his tablet. As he waits patiently for The Three to review the data, Gersham turns to me and gives a secret wave. I wiggle my fingers at him, keeping my face emotionless. Sam leans toward me.

“Who are they?” he asks in a whisper.

I tell him who the council members are by hair and name, then I nod to Gersham and inform them that this is my favorite I.T. guy.

“That’s the guy you were talking to the first night you were at the bunker?” Sam asks.

“Yeah.”

“How long you known this guy?” Dean asks, eyeing him.

“Since he was put into an apprenticeship with his predicessor, Hamish,” I reply. “That was about twenty-ish years ago for him… I think. For me, it’s been about a hundred and forty.”

“Oh… right, your timeline is off from everyone else’s,” Sam says with an ah-ha tone.

I nod just as the Council tells Gersham to take a seat with the guys.

“Hey!” he whispers to me as he passes.

“Hey,” I reply back, “Gersham, meet Sam and Dean Winchester and their angel, Castiel.”

“You guys have got your own angel?” Gersham says in awe. “That’s cool!”

“Silence,” orders Quid Sit calmly.

“Sorry,” I say with little care, “I figured introductions were warranted. Can we lose these now?”

I hold up my cuffed wrists. Quod nods to the android next to me who quickly removes them then resumes his position by my side.

“Thanks,” I tell Quod with a nod as I roll my wrists in an exaggerated way.

“Traveler Lavinia, you are here for a formal hearing to discuss your many accounts of law-breaking,” Quid Sit says calmly. “As well as the major issue you have created with your door.” 

“As it stands,” begins Quod Si Non, “you have many counts of emotional attachment to characters, charge and non-alike. Killing characters that were not necessary to eliminate, taking a full twenty-four hours off once every year in your timeline…”

“You’re still going on about that?” I mutter as I roll my eyes.

This earns me another glare from The Three.

“Fornicating with not only minor characters, but charges,” Quod Si Non goes on. “In addition to this, falling in love with one. This list of indiscretions and infractions is extensive. I shan't bother my tongue with listing them all. Then there are the matters of your door and you. It has been malfunctioning in a most outlandish way.”

“Yes,” I reply annoyed. “If anyone is aware of that, it would be me.”

“And yet you did not place a formal request to have it looked into,” Quod says.

“No, because if I don’t have to, I won’t put my door through that kind of crap. Gersham and I were working on fixing the problem instead of going through all the rigamarole of taking it apart and possibly having to put it back to factory settings. I like how it is now.”

“That is not up to you to decide,” Quid Sit tells me flatly.

“How is not?” I snap. “It’s mine!”

“It was given to you, but it is under our control,” Quod retorts.

“Fine, then take it away and…” 

“Silence!” orders Quod Si Non.

I clench my teeth together and glare. 

“...The data suggests that the problems are originating from you and your DNA,” Quod tells me. “Your DNA has changed too much for the door to recognize you properly anymore.”

“We were right,” Gersham tells me as he cleans closer. “Your evolution is creating the problem. The door has been trying to tell us that for some time now. We just didn’t know what it was trying to say.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” I reply as I show him my teeth and claws. 

“Whoa…” Gersham marvels with bright intrigued eyes.

“You have befouled body and now the door is starting to reject you,” Quod Si Non tells me with irritation. 

“I? I’ve 'befouled'?!” I spit. “Who was it that left me to be experimented on in my first fucking mission? Oh! Right! You!”

“Be silent,” snaps Quid Sit.

“No! God… damnit!” I pound on the ledge of my box and grit my teeth. “This is your fault! You stupid assholes.”

“Control your emotions!” orders Quid Sit.

“I’m not a robot,” I growl. “If you wanted one to do this job, you should have made them instead of stealing me from my life.”

Quod Si Non stands then, holding himself up with one arm, hand on the table, as he points the other at me. 

“You are the worst Traveler we have ever produced, that is a fact,” he tells me angrily. “You don’t follow the rules, you create problems, you stand out, you fornicate with the characters!”

“Fornicate!” growls Dean then, we all look at him. “We didn’t  _ fornicate _ , you bastards. We made love. If you’re so smart, you guys would know the difference.”

“Until you are asked to provide your testimony,” Quid Sit says calmly, looking dully at Dean, “you will remain silent.”

“This whole thing is bullshit,” Sam accuses them, standing up angrily. “You guys are berating your best closer for being what she is, human. Why are you trying to make her be something she isn’t?”

“This creature is no longer human,” Quod tells Sam. “She is a Traveler, first and foremost. Beyond that, she has been turned into a Marvel Universe mutant.”

“But I still deserve to be who and what I am fundamentally,” I argue. “Come on, guys. I’ve been doing this shit for over two hundred of my years. When are you gonna wake up and realize that I am not going to become devoid of emotion to make things easier for you? I cannot be something I am unable to be.”

“You must need to do another round of training, perhaps a more in-depth one,” Quid Sit suggests.

“How many times are we going to do this shitty dance?” I cry out in despair, flinging my arms out. “It never ends with the result you want. How about you just destroy me and be done with it?”

“No!” barks Sam, Dean, and even Castiel together.

They all stand together in protest.

“Sit them down,” orders Quod Si Non to the androids. Then to their counterparts, they say, “I told you we shouldn’t have had the charges come.”

The androids move in the blink of an eye and sit the three men roughly into their seats again. I grind my teeth and look back at The Council.

“You know full well why we won’t do that. No, you will be put through another round of deep training,” Quid Sit says. “As for your other discretions, we will have these characters provide a detailed account of your conduct during your mission in their story. This will be put into the record of your work so that we have first-hand account proof of your behavior.”

“No,” I hiss as I grip the edge of my box. As my claws dig into the stone, I hear it crumbling under the pressure. “I’m not doing another round of anything. And you’re not going to use their words against me for your own devious plans.”

“You will do as you are tol…” starts Quod Si Non.

“NO!” I shout, a roar coming out of my mouth. It surprises everyone, even myself but I go on, “I’ve had enough of your bullshit. I’m going to tell you what’s going to happen and you will listen. As I am the top in mission completions, and goodness knows you can’t afford to get rid of me mostly for that, then you’re going to leave me alone. No more of these pointless hearings. No more punishments. You leave me the hell alone.” The trio starts to open their mouths to argue before I talk over them, “Because if you don’t, I will ruin every story I’m assigned and I will kill my charges. You want me to be emotionless? Fine. I will be.”

“Y-You wouldn’t,” cries out Quod Si Non in horror. 

“You get too attached to your charges…” Quod tries to remind me.

“Yes,” I agree. “But you don’t want me to, remember? You took everything from me, my love, my life, my husband, and my child. You tried to take away my humanity, which has made me such a  _ great _ Traveler. Better than any of the others who complied with your training. You don’t seem to realize that without my emotions I’m just a killing machine with no desire to do what I’m supposed to. Really…” I laugh menacingly as I glare at them, “I would make a stunning villain. Would you like me to show you?”

They look at me in horror as if they’ve never seen the creature standing before them. This terrifying beast that is crumbling the stone wall under her fingers, grinning with sharp fangs. The four men to my right are watching silently. Gersham is a little startled by my demeanor, but at the same time he seems to give off an air of ‘about time’.

“You would force us to destroy you?” Quod Si Non asks me in a soft voice.

“I’d like to see you try,” I laugh. “That’s the only other way to make me stop. I mean, I’d finish this one out to completion, but the next one…” I laugh cruelly. “It’s a modern Fairy Tale and I’ll kill every hero that I come in contact with. I think I already met one when I first arrived. Her head will be easy to detach.” 

With that, I crush the stone under my fingers into small rocks. This makes the council gasp and startles the men to my right. 

“You knew what I was like after the first mission,” I tell them lowly. “You didn’t want to do the smart thing then and destroy me. Instead, you continued to abuse me. This is the monster you have created. Deal with it.”

The council members look at me, then each other quizzically. 

“We… shall take a recess to… discuss what to do,” Quid Sit says hesitantly. 

“Grand,” I reply with a one-eighty smile. “Have fun.”

I skip out of my box, ignoring the looks of protest I might get from them. When the android that was standing by me goes to catch my arm there is the sound of a throat being cleared. This makes the android stop and resume its original position while I skip over to the four men. Once there I plop down on the ground in front of them. The council members disappear through a door behind their seats.

“Sorry if I scared you gu…” I start to say.

“Right on,” Dean says to me with a grin as he reaches out and pulls me up into a hug and kiss. When he pulls back he says, “You stood up and took control of your life.”

“I can’t condone the mindless killing of innocent people,” Castiel tells me with a grave expression. “But I can understand the desire to want control over your own life.”

“Do you think they’ll agree to your terms?” Sam asks.

“No idea,” I reply apathetically. “I’m to the point where I don’t care anymore. I’m tired of this.”

“They do tend to go after you at least once every one of your years,” Gersham says. “It’s time they stop. You might go against their ideal image for a Traveler, but there aren’t any who even come close to your record.”

I smile at them all. 

“Either way,” I tell my three charges. “I will make sure that you are taken care of before I go. You will either be my last, ‘mission complete,’ or the one I cherish the most.”

Dean smiles at me, a touch of sadness at his lips. Kneeling in between his legs, his arms tighten around me. He kisses my forehead. Then he runs his thumb along my cheek, looking down into my eyes. Without any reservations, he kisses me on the lips again. Surprisingly at that moment, the council comes back in. I return Dean’s kiss and turn to look. They glare at me with irritation. 

“It figures, the one without a shirt…” Quod Si Non mutters loud enough to let me know he disapproves, but not loud enough to warrant a reply from me. 

I stand slowly, dusting off my clothes for show, and walk over to my box casually. No fear comes to me, no worry about their decision, I feel like I’m made of stone. The Council tends to bring this out in me. They sit and eye me collectively for a moment.

“It seems that you have us at a disadvantage,” Quod tells me. 

“It would be a falsehood to say that we have not tried to locate every part of you that has been dismembered and left behind in every mission you’ve had,” Quod Si Non adds. 

“Unfortunately, you are so drastically altered in DNA, just in a matter of three years, it is impossible to find every piece or estimate which would be the one to resurrect the next version of you,” Quod says. 

“Therefore,” Quod Si Non says with disappointment, “you will be permitted to do as you have in the past without further reprimands or hearings.”

“However,” Quod jumps in quickly when I start to smile, “you will have to be scanned at the beginning and end of every mission so as to keep your door updated and prevent any further complications.”

“Alright,” I reply with a nod. “What about the characters Ethan Chandler and John Clare? They are waiting in the other story I had to step away from.”

“They will be returned to their story,” Quid Sit informs me.

My heart stutters at this.

“R-Really?” I ask in a whisper.

“You are a Traveler,” Quod reminds me, voice harsh and sharp. “You are not supposed to have companions let alone ones from a story that you are finished with. How much has been altered drastically since they have left it?”

“I wouldn’t know,” I reply softly. “But who is to say that their story isn’t over? They told me themselves that they would rather travel with me.”

“That is out of the question,” snaps Quid Sit. “Think of the ramifications of the Wolf-man and Frankenstein’s monster no longer being in their story. The damage may be irreversible!”

“...Are you…” I laugh bitterly at their tone. “Are you blaming me for this?”

“Is it not your fault?” Quod Si Non asks.

“Actually,” Gersham says raising his hand and standing up with his tablet held in the air. “It was actually the door that did all this. Lavinia had already gone on to her next mission, alone. Sometime later the door opened before Ethan Chandler and John Clare. It invited them into Lavinia’s next mission.”

The council blinks in thought at Gersham’s words.

“Have you done any research into their stories?” Quid Sit asks.

“I have,” Gersham answers. “I believe their story does, in fact, end shortly after Lavinia called the mission complete.”

They blink again in unison then look at each other once more. Murmuring softly to one another they nod quickly and then look back at me. 

“Ethan Chandler and John Clare may stay with you as long as they do not create problems with your mission completion record,” Quod Si Non tells me. “It is highly possible that your door would only bring them back if they were sent away. It is as temperamental as it’s Traveler...”

“And the last thing we need is a temper tantrum from a door,” Quod adds tiredly. “Now, you are dismissed.”

They wave a hand at me before the Council’s eyes look away from me. I’ve been all but forgotten. Dismissed with higher prejudice than when I’d come. I shake my head but smile and walk over to the four men waiting for me. Quickly I usher them out of the room to the hall, shushing them as we go. The androids don’t care anything about us as we pass, they remain motionless. With the doors firmly shut behind us I let out a sigh of relief. 

“I really wasn’t expecting them to go through with it…” I laugh in disbelief. “They must be swamped right now. Are fan fictions and reboots getting more in number?”

Gersham shrugs.

“I’ve heard some things recently that suggest that,” Gersham replies. “If they get rid of you… they’d have to get another three or five new travelers to replace you.”

“I do that much work?” I ask genuinely surprised.

He nods.

“I know because I ran the numbers,” he says with a proud grin as he holds up his tablet. “I know more about you than anyone other than the door.”

“Well, aren’t you the best little stalker ever,” I laugh as I push his shoulder gingerly. 

He chuckles and rolls his eyes.

“I’m gonna come with you to their story and install the scanning equipment and software,” Gersham tells me.

“Sounds good,” I reply thoughtfully. “Oh, how about I make chili to celebrate my momentous victory?” 

I get grins of approval from everyone except Castiel who doesn’t eat. We start walking down the hall to my door.

“Does this mean that you will not be killing people?” Castiel asks me with concern.

“It does,” I reply. “Unless they are aiming to hurt my charges. Then they gotta go.”

“What if they are supposed to be kept alive?” Sam asks. 

“Then usually the story keeps them isolated from me so I can’t. Usually, it’s minions that I end up killing. Never the major villain.”

“I’m looking forward to this chili,” Gersham mutters as we walk. 

They all look at him while I smirk.  He’s got an overabundance of attention when it comes to food.

“Your one-track mind is amazing, Gersham,” I marvel. 

“It’s helpful,” he informs me.

I laugh. Suddenly Dean's arm is around my shoulders and he’s kissing my temple.

“What I said before,” he says softly to me as Sam strikes up a conversation with Gersham. “I was wrong. I would rather be with you while I still can. So… don’t pull away… Okay? Don’t leave me yet?”

I look up into his green eyes when he says his last sentence. There is pain and fear in them as he says this, but there’s also hope too. I nod a couple of times.

“Okay, I won’t,” I promise him. Wrapping my arms around his torso while we walk, I give him a gentle squeeze. “I’m right here and I love you.”

Dean stops walking and pulls me into a deep kiss. The others move on past us and wait. When he pulls back, holding my face in his hands he smiles down at me.

“I love you, too, you sexy beast.”

I laugh and swat his butt before I pull him along down the hall again. He chuckles as we rejoin our group. They seem a bit lighter than we all had been hours ago. When we get back to the bunker, Sam helps Gersham with installing the new equipment to my door while Castiel, Dean, and I go to the kitchen to get to work on my now highly favored chili. Dean cooks the meat while I chop onions and Castiel opens cans of beans to rinse. Within two hours we are all sitting in the kitchen eating, except for Castiel. Though he does admit that it does smell like something he would be delighted to eat if he did, in fact, eat. 

The next day, everything from The Citadel is pushed aside as we try to get a hold of Rowena only to get blown off by her. She seems to be up in Oregon, ‘taking care of some things’. So we are currently trying to figure out another way to track down Gabriel. It’s made abundantly clear when Castiel points out that he could literally be anywhere in this universe, hiding. Brainstorming ideas seem to put Dean into a beer-drinking mood. Lubrication for the cogs, he tells me as he hands me a bottle too. It is Castiel who reluctantly comes up with a possible idea.

“The angels,” Castiel says softly. “Maybe Heaven can help us.”

“Uh, not for nothin’, but don’t the angels mostly want to kill you?” Dean asks skeptically.

“Yes. Yeah, this would be something of a Hail Mary,” Castiel confesses reluctantly.

This term coming out of the angel’s mouth seems to surprise Dean. 

“It’s a sports term,” Castiel informs him obviously. “Like slam dunk or uh… ball handler.”

I choke on my beer. Dean looks at him with a, ‘nope,’ face and shakes his head.

“That’s, uh… Mnh-mnh,” Dean shakes his head and moves on. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Well, Dean, we don’t have any good ideas,” Castiel tells him in exasperation.

“Okay, let’s just-let’s just not barrel through with that like some of the other shit we’ve done.”

“I hear your concerns,” Castiel tells him patiently. “And yes, the angels, they loathe me, and there’s going to be dangers, but Heaven doesn’t want the world to end any more than we do. This is…” Castiel looks over his shoulder as Sam comes into the kitchen. “This is something I have to try.”

“We got a problem,” Sam says as he lays his tablet on the island between us.

“Another one?” Dean asks sarcastically. “Awesome!”

“All the stuff Rowena said on the phone,” Sam says. “I-I think I found her…”

The tablet shows us a page of the Oregon Tribune newspaper. The headline reads, Wealthy Portland Donor Spontaneously Combusts at Modern Art Gallery. There’s a picture of a pretty, dark-skinned woman next to the article.

“A rich lady exploded?” Dean asks in startled disgust.

“Yeah,” Sam replies. “Local cops are-are calling it spontaneous combustion, but… pretty much.”

“Why does this make you think it’s Rowena?” I ask.

“Because that’s kind of her M.O.,” Castiel tells me as he picks up the tablet to read the article.

“I knew it. I freakin’ knew,” Dean growls at his brother. “You gave her that page. What’d you think was gonna happen, huh?”

“She wanted to protect herself,” Sam argues.

“Yeah, by barbecuing someone?” Dean asks.

“Perhaps this person was intending to harm her?” I ask as I stand next to Castiel and read the article. 

“We don’t know what this is yet,” Sam agrees. “So, maybe Vinnie's right. Maybe she had a reason.”

“Doesn’t matter what the reason is,” Dean interrupts. “That’s not okay.”

Sam shakes his head in irritation.

“Okay, I said  _ if _ Rowena goes bad again, I’ll deal with it,” Sam reminds his brother. “So, I’ll deal with it.”

“You better,” Dean demands.

“Can I just remind you, Dean,” I say nonchalantly, “that I was willing to kill countless numbers of people just to get back at the Council?”

“That was different,” he tells me. “And you wouldn’t have done it.”

“It really isn’t that different, killing is killing. And I totally would have. Still will if they go back on their word.”

Dean looks at me with tired eyes. 

“I think we should find out what’s going on, before we do something rash,” I continue softly. “Waste not, want not, and all that.”

Dean closes his eyes and rubs them hard with the heels of his hands. When he opens them he looks at Castiel.

“Cass, you wanna try this angel thing, then go for it,” he concedes. “Just don’t get dead, again.”

Then he takes a big swig from his bottle of beer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any rights to Penny Dreadful, X-Men, Supernatural, or Once Upon a Time.  
> Traveler Lavinia, Gersham, the Citadel, and the Council are mine and should not be reproduced without my permission.


	15. Chapter 15

With the help of a reaper named Jessica, we track down Rowena who seems to be trying to enact her own brand of justice. The folks, five in total, that she has killed were part of a pharmaceutical company. This company knowingly and willingly sold thousands of sick people a faulty drug that made them even more sick; many died. Rowena seems to have turned over a bit of a new leaf. Sort of. In that now that she has her full powers unlocked, thanks to Sam, she’s doing a bit of vigilante work. However, it doesn’t go so well because she’s also been making a scene by killing reapers because she wants to convince Death to give her back her dead son. This has certainly earned her Death’s attention. When we catch up to her, Death, or Billie as the brothers call her, makes an appearance in a posh hotel room in Oregon. A small fight commences and Rowena ends up expending much of her magical energy when she attacks the cosmic being. What comes of the fight is very disappointing for Rowena. She doesn’t get her son back and she is simply encouraged to find another way to right wrongs by the all-knowing Billie. 

This change of heart does not go unnoticed especially when she has the chance to kill Sam and doesn’t take it. The brothers conclude that it is a miracle for Rowena. I try my hardest not to pop her head off like a cork on a bottle. She does apologize to me and them though and even I can feel the sincerity in her words. Rowena cries as we all sit on the floor of the busted up hotel room, mini fridge open. Dean, bloody from fighting her bodyguard; I’m growing back a couple of fingers. That dude was impressive!

“We all have things that we’re trying to make up for,” Dean tells her, then he looks at me. “Well, except for her.”

I nod.

“You remembered,” I smile affectionately.

Dean tries to hide a smirk behind a wet washcloth.

“Even though you fought Death and lost,” Sam adds. “Even though you feel weaker from it, you’re still the deadliest witch around.”

She bats her eyes playfully and smiles at him.

“Flatterer,” Rowena says softly. 

Sam scoffs a laugh, “Yeah, well, we, um… we may need your help to save our family. Hell, to save the world.”

“You wanna be redeemed?” Dean asks her. “This would be a pretty big step.”

She looks at him intrigued and surprised at his words.

“And you think I still can be?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he replies. “I do.”

Sam nods, “We both do.”

“If you want it,” I tell her, “you gotta go after it, the right way.”

They nod together at my words.

“But before you answer,” Sam says hesitantly. “You gotta know something… Lucifer is back.”

Her tear-stained face tightens as she exhales hard and looks down. 

“Of course he is,” she says tensely, fresh tears rolling down her face. 

“Now, you’re not gonna…” Dean asks in a low voice.

“Breakdown? Crack apart in terror?” she asks aggressively. “Of course I’m terrified and scared. My heart may have stopped, but…” she touches her chest. “Lucifer isn’t the one who’s gonna kill me, is he?”

Rowena refers to the little bit of information that Death gave her just before she took her leave. It seems that the only way Rowena dies is by Sam’s hand. For some reason, this seems to be a comfort to the two of them. I hope that when it comes they will look at it as a blessing. 

“So, what do you say?” Dean asks Rowena. “Are you in?”

Her chin trembles as more tears come. Rowena’s eyes look at us in fear for a moment and then she nods. 

“What a strong lady,” I muse. 

She smiles at me through her tears. When Rowena recovers a bit she sets to work making a spell to help us search for Gabriel. While she does that, I get to work cleaning up and healing Dean. Another syringe full of my blood clears up his bullet wound and new injuries. What comes from her tracking spell is two locations, Amarillo, Texas, and Central City, Colorado.

When we get ahold of Castiel, thankfully he’s still alive, only because Heaven is on a no angel killing policy now. There is currently a grand total of nine left, including Castiel, Gabriel, and Lucifer. In this world, it seems that without angels Heaven will stop functioning and the souls there will be released back onto the Earth. This is a terrifying prospect for everyone who knows. For the guys the reason is obvious, for me it’s because I won’t be able to help them fix anything. I will have to leave when my time is up and they will be on their own. There will be nothing I can do for the people I now very much love. My family will be at a disadvantage.

Rowena and Castiel take Amarillo while Sam, Dean, and I take Central City. Dean is very irritated when we reach the motel, which is to be expected. He is highly concerned that we will have to be here for a couple of days, searching for Gabriel while time runs out for Jack and Mary. 

“Look I know you know we’ve been following leads for the past two weeks. We have nothing to show for it. Meanwhile, Mom, Jack, they could be hurt. Or worse. And we’re stuck here in this stupid motel room… doing...” Dean growls and kicks the bed that Sam is sitting on. 

The bed starts to vibrate loudly and visibly, Sam jumps up in disgusted horror. We watch it for a moment in confusion until Dean kicks it and it stops. Then he looks at me with a smile.

“Okay, bonus,” he says with a grin.

Sam looks at him irritably and I roll my eyes playfully. 

“...Looking for some runaway, dumbass archangel who doesn’t wanna be found,” Dean finishes what he was saying just as a knock comes from the door. 

All three of us look at the door and pull out guns. Dean and I take a firing stance as Sam opens the door, revealing a bleeding Gabriel.

“Hey, fellas,” he breathes heavily, holding a long black case in one hand, “and lady. Looking for me?”

“Huh,” I muse. “That took less time than I was estimating.”

Sam grabs Gabriel and pulls him into the motel room. Gabriel falls to the couch with a groan, his black case hitting the ground with a thud. While Sam gets to work pulling out a medic kit and patching up what looks like ginormous claw marks on the archangel’s abs. I wonder briefly if mine would leave such an impressive sight.

“How did you know we were here?” Dean asks as Gabriel grunts in pain.

“Come on. I felt your witch’s tracking spell the second she laid it on me,” he tells us with exasperation. “Tasted like haggis.”

“So, now you’re in trouble?” Sam says without sympathy as he throws a towel covered in blood onto the coffee table.

“What gave you that idea?” Gabriel asks sincerely as Dean goes to check the door.

“You showed up on our doorstep, bleeding like a stuck pig,” Dean reminds him.

“This?” Gabriel says skeptically as he points to his bleeding abdomen. “Eh, you know, you… roll into town for a little R and R, stumble into the wrong poker game, take a guy’s money, his girlfriend…” Gabriel looks at me coyly. “Things get messy.”

“You came  _ here _ for R and R?” I say with a snort. “Mm-hmm…”

“Yeah, this isn’t exactly the Riviera,” Dean agrees as he crosses his arms. 

“I know, right? Huh…” Gabriel mutters. “Yeah… so, anyway… I don’t suppose you guys have any more of my grace laying around, right? ‘Cause, uh, the tank’s a little low.”

“Oh, did you drain it, killing those demons?” Sam asks sarcastically.

“And ditching you,” he nods. Sam’s face gets tense with annoyance. “It’ll recharge eventually. But, uh, until then…”

“Whatever we didn’t use on you, we used to open up a rift,” Dean tells him gruffly.

Gabriel’s eyes go wide with shock, his mouth puckers like he’s just sucked a lemon.

“...Cool…” he says at a loss. “Superdups… Okay, well, uh, in that case, gentlemen and lady, I must bid you a fond adi… Ohh!” Gabriel groans as he tries to get up and falls back down. Quickly he leans back again and shakes his hand at us, “Yeah, nope. Maybe after a… little siesta.”

“Twit…” I mutter. “Selfish git.”

I roll my eyes and watch him stiffly flop back to lay on the couch. He moans in pain as he lays there. Sam looks back at Dean who flings his arms out in irritation. Gabriel looks at me out of the corner of his eye.

“What might help is if I could use your lap as a pillow…” he says sweetly. “I bet it’s really soft.”

“I’d rather cut off my own head again,” I reply.

He gives me a startled look before he turns to the brothers. They just shrug. I go over to the beds and flop down on the one Dean’s claimed for him and me. The brothers come over to the bedroom area, leaving Gabriel to snore off on the couch. 

“Until his grace levels come back up,” Sam says in a whisper to us as he takes the other bed. “I-I just… I don’t get it.”

Dean sits down across from him, his back against my stomach after I roll over to lay on my side.

“Yeah, well, right now, I don’t care,” Dean says with agitation. “He’s here, and we’re gonna keep him here.”

“How exactly?”I ask.

Gabriel interrupts an answer when he sits up quickly, inhaling sharply.

“Where?! Where am I?” he asks in a panic. When he sees us, he blinks several times. “Oh, right… You… Are we gonna have some family fun in the bedroom?”

His suggestive tone sets Dean’s teeth on edge. I rub his back sympathetically. 

“Gabriel, look,” Sam says getting up and walking toward him. “We don’t really know what’s going on here…”

“We need your help,” Dean cuts right to the chase.

“Uh… Yeah, not a big joiner,” Gabriel says like the worm that he is making himself out to be.

“Oh, so you got better things to do than save the world?” Dean asks with narrowed eyes.

“Exactly,” Gabriel replies with a sharp inhale.

“Disgusting,” I mutter as I sit up and watch this pathetic creature more closely.

“Look,” Gabriel says, ignoring me as he grunts into a standing position, “this has been great. A real thrill. But, uh, I just came here for the silver stuff. And since you three are all fresh out,” he gingerly bends at the knee to grab his case. “It’s time for me to say, sayonara.”

He starts to bow to us, his back to the door when suddenly it gets kicked in. Gabriel jumps in alarm and turns around to see two rather odd looking men. The taller one is balding, gruff looking face, wears a leather jacket and some kind of gold round pendant on a chain around his neck. The other has a fine mane of hair, pompadour style, longer, sharper face, like a horse, and a green plaid suit. 

“Raspberries,” Gabriel grumbles in disappointment.

The bigger one steps forward and says in a nordic accent, “We’re here for the angel.”

As he says this he emphasizes his intent and power by showing us a glowing shadow that covers his face like a mask. It’s that of a smiling skull. The other one in plaid, his glowing shadow mask is that of a horse. In his hand is a leather cat of nine tails. My eyes narrow at them as I reach slowly for my sword on the bed.

“The hell are you guys?” Dean asks with wide eyes. Then to Gabriel, he says, “The hell are these guys?”

“Oh, just a couple of Norse Demigods,” Gabriel tells us. 

“Demigod?!” Sam snaps.

That seems to be the trigger word for the horse demigod, I’m assuming must be Sleipnir. He lunges for Dean who has just pulled out his gun. The demigod slaps the gun away with impressive speed then whirls around to knock my sword out of my hand as I start to unsheath it. Meanwhile, Sam is put into a headlock by the big one and is starting to look like he’s losing consciousness. Dean goes to grab a chair and bash the horse demigod in the head with it while I distract him by throwing a much more powerful punch that I realized I could do. 

_ This new evolution might come in handy… _

It’s somewhere in here that Gabriel has pulled out what appears to be a wooden short sword from his black case and impales the big demigod through the back and into his chest with it. The big guy releases Sam who gasps for air and falls to the ground. Then the big demigod looks down at his chest just as the sword pulls back out with a squishing sound. The horse-faced demigod looks up at Gabriel from the floor where he fell after I punched him. Gabriel points the sword at him.

“Hiya, handsome. Ready to die?” he asks. 

The demigod takes no second to think about this and bolts out the door. Gabriel groans as he clutches his wounded side. His face screwing up in pain. Dean looks at me and Sam then finally at Gabriel.

“You okay?” he asks the angel.

“Yeah,” Gabriel grunts. “I’m fine. I’ll go after him in a sec. Just give… I need a minute.”

He doubles over in pain.

“Wrong,” growls Dean as he holds out the angel cuffs that had originally been planned to use on a weakened Lucifer. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Gabriel lets out a loud sigh of disappointment. Dean wastes no time handcuffing the angel to the radiator in the room. While we clean up the mess, Gabriel whines at us like a bratty child. Sam promises him that we will let him go as soon as he tells us what’s going on. But only after we take care of the big demigod’s body. With a little help from Tasuke Mamoru, we dispose of the body, in several parts, using a car compactor in a junkyard. Not my funnest evening ever. When we get back we sit down like circle time and have Gabriel tell us what is going on.

“I killed their brother,” he tells us simply. 

“W-Whhhyy?” Sam asks slowly.

“Remember I told you that after I faked my death?”

“Monte Carlo, porn stars,” I reply quickly. 

“Yeah…” Gabriel says, nodding to me. “Well, I left a few parts out. After Lucifer, quotation marks,  _ killed me _ , I needed to lay low. Luckily, I used to hang with a pretty resourceful crew. Found me a really top-shelf hideaway. It was all gambling, porn stars, sex…” Gabriel exhales with a grin of nostalgia.

“...Skip to the end,” Sam tells him annoyed and disgusted.

The angel looks at him in disappointment before he exhales loudly.

“So, this is how it ended…” he goes on. “One night those demigods came for me with an angel worded black bag. Snatched me right out of bed… By the time I came to, they had sold me to Asmodeus.”

“Why would they do that?” Sam asks.

“Hello? Lucifer?”

“Uh… for those of us there weren’t there for all that, can you give a little more info?” I ask with my hand raised.

“There was an apocalypse brewing at the time, the big showdown between Lucifer and Michael,” Gabriel tells me. “Vegas odds had my bro, Luci, pulling off a big win.”

“Yeah? And whose fault was that?” Dean asks angrily. “You ran off to hide instead of sticking around to fix the mess with us.”

Gabriel looks at Dean irritably with a smile.

“Mm…” he growls slightly. “Fenrir, Sleipnir, and Narfi were just trying to cover their keisters. They needed to get rid of me before Lucifer figured out where they had me hidden. But  _ selling _ me to the Kentucky Fried B-hole? For them? That was all profit.”

“So, you want revenge?” Dean says getting the situation.

“Well, obviously. Watching the lady cut Asmodeus in half like some sexy anime chick was satisfying for a hot minute…” I nod to him humbly. “But you know one thing better than him dying? Slaughtering them all.”

“Uh, forgive me for bringing this up, but couldn’t this have all been circumvented if you had just stuck around and done... well, your job as an angel?” I ask irritably.

Gabriel glares at me momentarily.

“You know, you’re pretty, but that mouth of yours must get you into a lot of trouble,” he tells me.

“Not really,” I reply apathetically. 

“...Right…” Sam says hesitantly looking from me to Gabriel. “But since you’re low on grace, you had to do it the old-fashioned way… with wood.”

“You can only kill a demigod with wood?” I ask in exasperation.

Sam nods.

“A particular kind of wood dipped in lamb’s blood,” Sam adds.

“Don’t let anybody ever tell you you’re just a pretty face,” Gabriel says complementarity to Sam.

My eyes involuntarily roll.

“The rules of your world are so obscure and annoying!” I breathe.

“All right, anyways…” Sam goes on. “If there are only, uh, three gods or monsters, or whatever,” Sam gets up and walks over to the case Gabriel had carried in, “how come there are four swords?”

Sam pops open the case lid and shows us the contents. Three sit on one side, two covered in blood, while a fourth is strapped into the lid. Sam must have taken a look after we cleaned up the demigod’s body.

“Oh. That top one? That is for the man with the plan, the architect of my torture, and my own personal public enemy, numero uno. Their papa…” Gabriel grins at this. “Loki.”

Dean gets up, pulling a flask out of his jacket pocket. He spins the lid off and takes a swig. Gritting his teeth as he exhales the strong fumes of the liquor. Turning around to Gabriel again, he hands the flask to Sam.

“Hold on,” he says coming closer. “I thought Loki was you.”

“It’s trippy, I know,” Gabriel tells Dean as he flings his arms out carelessly. “Remember when I told you I went into witness protection a long, long time ago? Well, who do you think put me there?”

“You mean to tell me you ran away… before the last time,” I say waving my hand to stop the discussion. “And you did it with the help of the Norse god, Loki?”

“That’s right,” Gabriel nods.

“Why exactly did you do that?” 

Gabriel exhales heavily, “Because dad had taken a powder, Heaven didn’t know what to do, and my big bro, Michael was making preparations to play the perfect warrior son. I didn’t want to be involved with any of that crap. So, I left.”

“Y-You… abandoned your family?!” I hiss.

“No, no, no,” he tells me waving his hand dismissively. “They wanted to do things I didn’t, so I took my leave.”

“They needed your help and you left them!” I snap, standing up suddenly. “You  _ abandoned _ your family.”

“E-Easy, Vinnie,” Sam tells me as he reaches out to my arm.

Dean touches my other shoulder too.

“You are so pathetic,” I growl. “You’re a disappointment! You don’t have any right to demand justice when you are the one who put yourself in this situation. What happened to you is obviously the price you have to pay for being such a shitty angel.”

“Hey! I didn’t abandon them first,” Gabriel shouts. “God did that. You can’t blame me for following his example.”

“They hell I can’t,” I spit back. “You had the choice to be better than them. To set an example that he hadn’t screwed up completely and you so utterly failed. It’s no wonder your life has turned out this way.”

“You have no idea what I’ve been through!  _ Every day _ Asmodeus tortured me. Every… day! He fed off my grace for years! He used me, he debased me until I was…” Gabriel yells all this, his chin quivering. “...What I went through… you don’t forgive. Everyone who had a hand in it will die. Get me?”

“Seven years, was it?” I ask him haughtily. He nods and I go on, “Wow, that’s rough…" I say sarcastically before I look at him with narrowed eyes. "You know what, your seven years mean  _ shit _ to me. You were used and debased? Cry to someone who gives a fuck. I was ripped apart, put back together, over and over. I was brutalized, I was used, they did things to me that are considered war crimes! This didn’t happen for some small handful of years, it was several decades!”

“...If you could kill the people who did that to you,” Gabriel asks softly, “wouldn’t you take it?”

I laugh bitterly.

“I did,” I reply. “But it didn’t change anything. You walked away from your family because it was getting tough? I was kidnapped and forced into slavery.  _ Then _ I was turned into a science experiment and told to suck it up, keep working. Your story is nothing but the grumbling of a worm to me. I’m not helping you get revenge for something you could have prevented. And I’m not letting you take these two on a ride to Stupid Town because you’re low on grace.”

Gabriel grinds his teeth as he looks at me irritably. 

“...What… if I could help you get some?” he asks me slowly. “To get someone else’s grace…”

“Like who?” Dean asks in a growl. “We need archangel grace.”

“And it just so happens that there’s another one, skipping through the tulips… here on this Earth…” Gabriel says suggestively.

Sam’s eyes go big before he starts to violently shake his head.

“No,” he says flatly. “No, we are not doing anything with Lucifer.”

“How exactly would you even go about getting his grace when you are so low yourself?” I ask with a skeptical tone.

“There’s ways around that, just trust me. I can get what you need and without having to make a deal with the devil.”

“Deal,” Dean says quickly.

“What?! Dean, no,” Sam says loudly. “Every time we have to deal with him he ends up screwing us.”

“Well, that is what he does,” I mutter thoughtfully. “After we get his grace I’ll kill him. So, problem solved on that front.”

Gabriel scoffs before he looks at me with an eyebrow raised.

“You think you can kill my brother?” Gabriel asks.

My response to his question is a grin. 

“If anyone could do it,” Dean says, shrugging. “It’d be Vinnie.”

“Not that killing Asmodeus wasn’t impressive, but we’re talking about,  _ Lucifer _ .”

“Oh, shut it,” I snap at him irritably. “You’ve got yourself a deal, we’ll make a plan of action later when we get together with Castiel and Rowena. Focus on this demigod and Loki thing. Do you need to kill them yourself or can I just go in and deal with the situation? I’ll have it done in less than five hours.”

“No, they are mine,” Gabriel says with finality. 

“Fine,” I reply as I stand up and go to his case.

I hear Dean get up and uncuff the angel. He is quickly on my heels. In a halfway polite fashion, Gabriel butts me out of the way and locks his sword case. 

“What’s the plan then?” Dean asks.

“Well, Sleipnir’s a lot of things, but mainly, he is a coward,” Gabriel replies. “I will bet all the personal lubricant in the S.F.V. that after we killed Narfi, he ran straight back to papa’s skirts.”

“So, he and Loki will be together,” Sam says as he checks the clip in his gun. “That’s great. How do we find them?”

“Uh, they’re about a… five minute drive from here,” Gabriel says as he estimates the time. “Penthouse of the Ophidian Hotel.”

“Seriously?” spits Sam.

“You’ve known this whole time?” Dean growls.

“Sure,” Gabriel replies with a shrug. “That’s what Loki does. He rolls into a dump town, finds the seediest hotel, then uses some mojo to give it his patented Cinderella treatment. Loki has his fun. Then he moves on. I’ve been tracking him since Amarillo.”

“And you didn’t go after him,” Dean says skeptically. “Why?”

Gabriel’s eyebrows go up in shock at such a question.

“‘Cause that’s… ah…” he nods his head and puts his hands together as if he’s about to impart some great knowledge on us. “For the most satisfying retributive experience, everyone knows you don’t take on the Big Bad from the jump. You work up to him, like so. Am I right, or am I right?” 

He looks to me and holds out his hand for an answer. I shrug and nod.

“Can’t say I did it a different way,” I confess. “It was a pleasure gutting that son of bitch with my own rib.”

“That was the guy you…” Dean looks at me in shock.

I nod.

“Seemed rather poetic since he was the one who had such a great time pulling out parts of my body to experiment on. He thought it was funny to remind me that they would grow back.”

“That is so metal,” Gabriel tells me with a lusty look. “I’m kinda back to liking you.”

“Don’t get too attached,” I reply apathetically. 

Dean nods and pulls me closer to him, touching my rib cage as he does. Gabriel smirks at this and pulls out a piece of paper. When he hands it to Dean he looks at me.

“So, were there others before the guy you killed with your own body?” 

“Yes,” I reply, leaning into Dean.

“How did you do it? Was there a particular order?” he asks me eagerly.

“I knew their rounds,” I recount. “So, I simply let them come to me. Some of them I killed with the furniture in my cell. Some I simply strangled. I didn’t care too much about how they died as long as they did.”

“Nice!”

“What is this?” Dean asks as he looks at a list of names.

“Wow,” Gabriel says in amazement. “Have you seriously never seen a kill list? There’s Fenrir, Narfi, Sleipnir, and then Loki.” He grins as he looks at us with pride, “I’m killing all of his sons in order. And then, when he’s got nothing left, I take him out.”

Dean exhales a tired laugh, “This is so stupid.”

Gabriel’s face goes dark as he snatches at the paper from Dean’s hands.

“Really? Is it? ‘Cause, let me tell you something. Seven years is a long-ass time for me to plan my own personal brand of vengeance. So, if you guys aren’t gonna get onboard…”

“No, no, no, no, no,” Sam says standing up and shaking his head quickly. “We’re onboard. Right, Dean, Vinnie?”

Dean grunts in response, squeezing me gently.

“Not really, but whatever,” I reply simply.

“What? How can you not be? You said you get it,” Gabriel says in disbelief.

“I did say that. But I didn’t say that I agree. See,” I say leaning a little closer to him. “I killed those bastards because if I didn’t they weren’t just going to keep hurting me, but they were going to keep hurting the other people too. Countless others who were unfortunate enough not to die from the experiments. I had more than just myself in mind. However, I don’t particularly care about why you’re doing this. I’m looking toward my own endgame. So, full steam ahead, conductor.”

“...Peachy…” Gabriel says irritably. Then changing gears he says in a more upbeat tone, “So, here’s what we’re gonna do. We go in, we kill Sleipnir, and then, we surprise Big Daddy in the penthouse.”

Gabriel gives us a quick smile before he heads out the door. Dean shakes his head in annoyance before we follow. The drive is short and the motel is disgusting. Parts of the exterior are falling off or have already been gone for years. The paint from years ago is showing in spots along window ledges. Panes of glass on windows have been taped where they are cracked rather than replaced. There is a general odor of urine and regrets about the place. We wait in the shadows until we see Sleipnir go in with two men in suits flanking him, obviously bodyguards. Then we follow them inside and watch as they get into a rickety elevator. Floor three is where it stops. Quickly we get into the elevator which smells similar to the exterior of the building. When the door closes Gabriel opens his mouth to speak.

“One last thing, just so we’re clear. Take out the bodyguards, take out the bystanders, whatever. But when it comes to Sleipnir and Loki,  _ I’m _ the one who delivers the coup de grace. I want my beautiful face to be the last thing that they see.”

“Okay, no, you know what?” Dean interrupts, finally having enough of Gabriel's nonsense. “No more plans, no more rules. You want Loki dead on the ground? That’s what you’re gonna get.”

“How about this, ‘handsome’, I’ll race you,” I tell Gabriel, hoping to spur him on so that he will beat Dean to the punch. “Whoever gets there first, gets to bag the prize.”

“No…”

“Yep!” I reply with a grin as I pull out Tasuke Mamoru, calling on his full strength.

The doors dings open just then, framing Sleipnir at the far end of the hall with his bodyguards. He looks at us startled for a moment then points and shouts, “Get them!”

Gabriel snaps his fingers and the lights go out. A moment later and my eyes are adjusted just as the first flashes of gunfire explode in bright flashes and noise. Moving quickly I jump out of the elevator, my shoulder getting clipped by a bullet as I do. Up against the wall I move with silent footsteps until I’m close enough to cause minimal damage to the hallway but maximum damage to the people at the end of it. With one quick slice up I cut through the two bodyguards and wing the little horse demigod. I hear the click of fingers again, the lights come on, and there is Gabriel; standing behind me with his wooden sword.

“Thanks for that,” he tells me. “I’ll finish up.”

“As you wish,” I reply, lowering my sword.

Uninterested in what will happen to the demigod who now lays on the floor, bleeding profusely and whimpering; I turn to the other end of the hall. Only Sam stands at the end of it.

“Where’s Dean?” I ask with a tight voice.

Sam looks around him in a panic.

“Dean!” he calls.

There’s some mild pleading behind me before a crunch and squish.

“He left,” Sam looks at me quizzically.

“Ah,” Gabriel says as he comes around me, wiping off his sword with a handkerchief. “Big bros, right? Always think they know best.”

“Your case is missing,” I tell Gabriel as I look past Sam.

“The penthouse,” Sam looks at the slightly open stairwell door. “He went after Loki!”

“No…” Gabriel says panicked. “No, Loki’s mine!”

As one, we all rush for the stairs. 

“He’s mine, damn it!” shouts Gabriel. 

“I told you,” I remind him. “Whoever gets there first gets to bag the prize.”

“This isn’t a game for anyone but me,” shouts the archangel. 

“You dragged us into this,” I shout back as we get to the top floor of the small building. “You pushed us into your stupid game. Suck. It. Up.”

As we come through the door Gabriel shoves me into Sam, causing us to sprawl onto the ground. With me laying on Sam’s back, Gabriel takes off down the hall. Sam and I look up after him groaning.

“I’m gonna stab him,” I hiss as I jump up to stand. “Right in the ass.”

“I’ll hold him down,” Sam says as he gets up.

Running after him we come to a T in the hallway. Sam heads down one end, I go down the other. When I round another corner I find Gabriel has found another man who looks just like him but the new one is wearing a nice suit. 

“Hi, Gabriel,” says Loki. Then he spots me. “What a pretty pet you have.”

“The only thing he’s petting,” I reply cooly, “is himself.”

“Stay out of this, Lavinia,” orders Gabriel. 

“Then get your ass to it,” I reply as I lean against the wall behind me.

Loki raises an eyebrow at me before he decides to ignore me altogether. Looking back to Gabriel, the Norse god says, “You don’t have  _ my _ wooden sword?”

Gabriel sighs and looks down at the one in his hand. He shakes his head and chucks it behind him, avoiding me. 

“No. Wanted to do this one old school.”

“Mm… with your… archangel powers,” Loki says knowingly as he squares off. “This is for my father.”

Loki raises up his hand quickly and sends Gabriel flying backward, I step aside to let him slam with a grunt into a hanging picture. 

“You think you’re some… poor, innocent victim?” Loki says as he saunters up to Gabriel. 

When he gets closer he gives the angel a swift kick into the stomach. Gabriel grunts.

“Gabriel,” Loki says in mock sympathy, “with his deadbeat daddy and his mean, older brothers.” Balling up his fist he brings it crashing down into Gabriel’s back. “‘Who will help me?’ ‘Who will save me?’”  Then he grabs Gabriel up by the neck and shoves him into the dented wall where the trashed picture on the floor once hung. I continue to do nothing, waiting for an order from the stupid angel.  “I did,” hisses Loki as he squeezes tightly. “But you… you couldn’t keep one promise. And then you had the audacity to ask  _ me _ to help  _ you _ again?!”  He pulls Gabriel away from the wall then, the angel groaning, with panic in his eyes. Spinning, Loki chucks Gabriel to the ground behind him and goes on with his rant.  “You think  _ I _ deserve to die for  _ your _ spinelessness?!” Loki shouts this and kicks Gabriel again in the stomach. “That my sons deserved to die?!”

At that moment a fresh wooden sword comes sliding across the floor and into the angel’s hand. Sam and Dean have found us and are now watching the show tensely. While Gabriel uses what’s left of his strength to stand up and shove Loki into a wall, Loki starts to chuckle.

“Of course. Of course, you would need someone to swoop in and save your pitiful ass.”

“Shut up!” Gabriel says weakly.

“Face it, old friend,” Loki says without fear, “you’re a joke. You’re a failure.” At that moment I catch Gabriel glance momentarily at me from the corner of his eye. “You live for pleasure. You stand for nothing. And in the end, that’s exactly what you’ll die for.”

Gabriel shrugs his shoulders at this.

“You first,” he says then he rams the sword into the Nordic being’s chest.

There’s a screaming groan from Loki before he falls down dead. Gabriel looks up to us and nods a thanks.

“Why didn’t you help him?” Dean asks me.

“He told me not to,” I reply simply. “What was all this, ‘for my father’ stuff Loki was talking about?”

“Oh, apparently part of the deal for him putting Gabriel into hiding was that he wouldn’t get involved with Heaven again. But when he ‘died’ at that hotel during the first apocalypse we had to deal with his dad, Odin, got killed. He blamed Gabriel,” Dean tells me.

“Huh,” I reply thoughtfully. “Well, let’s get out of here. This place makes me feel sorry for myself.”

“I second that,” Sam agrees.

Stepping over the broken glass and shattered picture frame, the four of us make our way to the elevator. Walking out to the car Sam carries the sword case to the trunk. 

“Listen,” Gabriel says suddenly, “I know you three weren’t the, uh, eagerest of beavers when it came to helping me out back there, so, uh… I-I just wanna say… thanks… So! This other world Michael… how we doing this?” 

“Wait… you’re actually going to help us?” Sam asks, amazed.

“Yeah, no tricks?” Dean says skeptically.

Gabriel looks at them in mock offense.

“A deal is a deal,” he says matter of factly. “And if I’m being perfectly honest, tricks are for kids.”

He grins at this last line. Sam and Dean give him mild smiles. With nothing to add to it, Dean gently takes my hand and leads me to the car. He opens the driver’s side door, allowing me to slide in first before he follows after. Sam and Gabriel talk for a moment outside. 

“Did you get hit,” Dean asks me softly.

“A bullet grazed my shoulder, but it’s healed now,” I tell him.

He nods with a tense look on his face. 

“We’re coming to the end, aren’t we?” he asks me even softer.

I nod slowly.

“You can feel it too, huh?” I whisper.

He doesn’t react at first. Then he puts the key in the ignition and turns the car on. Dean sits for a moment, staring out the window. Then wraps his right arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. The back doors open about this time and Sam and Gabriel get in. Without any further words, we head back to the bunker. Castiel and Rowena meet us there about the same time. While Castiel helps Gabriel settle in, Rowena sets about working on learning the rift spell.

After a much-needed nap and a good dinner, we are sitting in the command room biding our time. Dean is drinking some scotch from a decanter while I sit in another chair, with my legs propped up on his thighs. His hand runs over my legs absently while I enjoy the feeling of his fingers on my skin with closed eyes. When Sam comes in I don’t bother to open them.

“Hey…” Sam says hesitantly, “back at the hotel… why did you go after Loki without us?”

I hear Dean set down his glass, his hand stops moving on my leg.

“Saw an opening, so I took it,” he replies.

“So, you left us?” 

“You guys were handling those goons just fine,” Dean replies. “I just figured I’d…. multitask.”

“That’s not…” Sam sighs.

“I’ve seen you in various situations, honey,” I add in, finally opening my eyes. “There are very few where you are able to multitask. Try again.”

“Right,” Sam agrees. “I’m saying this has become a whole thing with you lately.”

“Don’t gang up on me,” Dean growls. “And… a whole thing?”

“Yeah,” Sam says, ignoring his brother’s first statement.

“Since when?”

“Since the last time we opened a rift,” Sam tells him. “Since you decided to sideline me and Vinnie and then head to Apocalypse World with Ketch.”

“Okay, well… we talked about that,” Dean says, not looking at us but his glass.

“Did we? Because I gotta be honest, after everything, you’re treating  _ me _ like I-I-I deserve to be back at the kid’s table or something. And you’re leaving the woman you love behind?”

Dean watches his brother before he nods slightly before he looks down at my legs and touches them fondly. 

“Guys, I’m not gonna apologize for protecting you.”

“So, that’s what you think you’re doing here?” Sam says with exasperation. “Vinnie can’t really get hurt, not physically. And I can take care of myself. You know that.”

I touch Dean’s hand softly as it rests on my knee. He looks at me briefly in thought before he nods and silently lets me know he’s going to stand. After I pull my legs off of his lap he gets up, holding his scotch glass. 

“You remember what happened the last time we had front row seats to the Michael and Lucifer show,” Dean says coming around me to get closer to his brother. “‘Cause I do. You died… and went to Hell.” 

I sit up more straight and watch them in silence. Sam’s face gets tense and pained as Dean sits on the edge of the table. 

“But see, this time, the apocalypse isn’t looking for us. We’re actually looking for it. I don’t care what happens to me. I never really have. But I do care about what happens to my brother. And Vinnie, like you said, she can take care of herself. No matter what she’ll be fine and when her mission is done she’s gonna have to go on to another world and never see us again. My job as your big brother doesn’t stop just ‘cause I’m in love with her and I’m only gonna have her for a short time. I still have to take care of you.”

“Dean…” Sam says tensely, “we’re going to that place, and we’re gonna save Jack and mom. Together. And if something happens, we will deal with it  _ together _ .” Sam starts to walk away then turns back to his brother in irritation. “And if we die? We’ll do that together, too.”

Sam turns and walks away, into the library. Dean shakes his head momentarily before he looks back at me. I remain sitting with a neutral expression.

“I’m sorry if what I said offends you,” Dean tells me with a lack of actual apologetic tone. “But you gotta understand, he’s my brother and…”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t understand?” I ask softly. “You think that I wouldn’t do just the same if I still had family to take care of. I’d have let the whole world burn to protect my daughter.” I laugh at the thought, “Hell, I would have struck the match.”

“...Other people don’t seem to get it,” he says with a sigh as he comes back to his original seat. “I forgot for a bit that you and I… we know.”

I lean over and take his hand. 

“Yeah, we do,” I say softly.

He leans closer and kisses me.

“How about we head to bed? I don’t think that nap did any good.”

I smirk and nod.

“Sure, but I doubt you just want to sleep…”

Dean’s lips curl up wickedly as he sets his glass back down on the table. Suddenly he’s hoisted me up over his shoulder.

“You get me so well,” he growls sexily as he swats my butt.

I burst into giggles as he trudges to his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any rights to Penny Dreadful, X-Men, Supernatural, or Once Upon a Time.  
> Traveler Lavinia, Gersham, the Citadel, and the Council are mine and should not be reproduced without my permission.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! This is the second to last chapter of Act 2. It snuck up on me, lol. Chapter 17 will come out on Monday and then Friday we'll start on Act 3, where Lavinia goes back to Once Upon a Time. Are you looking forward to it or are you bummed? You'll want to have some tissues close by for the next chapter for sure though.

The plan we come up with to collect Lucifer is one of the tricks from the mind of Gabriel and some magical binding from Rowena. The problem of only having twenty-four hours through the rift is solved neatly by Sam who is assisted by Rowena. We will slowly bleed Lucifer of his grace allowing us much more time. When they get him back to the bunker, Rowena magically suspends him in a rather uncomfortable position; knees on the ground, his upper body bent over slightly so that his grace can slowly leak out of him into the bowl with the other ingredients. While they were away the brothers and I have been packing for battle, ammo, guns, angel blades, my sword, the archangel blade, and anything else we might need to traverse that other world of hell. We are all ready to make our trip. 

Rowena is grinding the ingredients together when she notices that Lucifer, who was knocked out when they brought him into the bunker, is now awake. He looks around groggily then smiles. We watch him from our various places around the library.

“Oh, hey, Sam,” he says casually then he looks around. “Oh, look at this. All the people I love to torture in the same room.”

“I guess, he’s leaving me out,” I mutter to Dean.

“That ain’t funny,” he hisses.

“It actually kind of is,” I reply before I kiss his cheek.

“What’s the occasion, guys?” Lucifer asks.

Rowena slowly, whirling around to face the archangel, brings the bowl over and sets it down in front of Lucifer; underneath his throat. He looks down into the bowl.

“Ah, I think I see what’s going on. You’re planning a trip to save Mother Mary, and you need my grace. Is that about it?”

Rowena smiles as Castiel comes over to grab up Lucifer’s hair at the crown of his head, exposing his neck.

“Good guess,” Castiel tells him viciously.

Swiftly he cuts an inch long line on the archangel’s throat. Instead of blood, bright, white light shines from the wound. A high-pitched ringing sounds as the grace falls into the bowl. Lucifer’s face slackens in a groggy fashion. When there’s enough in the bowl, Castiel lets Lucifer’s head go and steps back. Every other minute a bit of grace spills out into the bowl, replenishing the ingredients. Lucifer shakes his head lethargically before he looks up at Gabriel.

“Okay, you could’ve done this back at the bar. Could've drained me, killed me. What’s this really about?” Lucifer asks. “Humiliation? Revenge?”

“Ah, those are just bonuses,” Sam says with a smile. “See, we got a lot of work to do back in Apocalypse World, but not a whole lot of time to do it. So, I realized something. I realized we could use you.”

Rowena takes this moment to get closer to the bowl with the Seal of Solomon in her hand. Squatting down, she holds the seal over the bowl.

“Koth Munto Nuntox!” she chants. 

Then she flings her hands at an empty space in the room. A flicker of light sparks there then grows into the now familiar rift doorway. 

“We’re gonna use you not to just crack the door open, but to keep it open,” Sam tells him. “So, we’re gonna drain you. We’re gonna keep on draining you.”

“Like a stuck pig,” Dean says with satisfaction as he pulls his duffle bag strap over his shoulder.

“Grace on tap,” Gabriel adds with a smile. “Sorry, bro.”

Gabriel doesn’t sound sorry at all and I snort a giggle. 

“And then, when we get back,” Sam tells him. “Then we’ll kill you.”

“Cool,” Lucifer replies apathetically. 

“You gonna be okay back here?” Sam asks Rowena.

“Aye,” she replies with a brave smile. “Someone needs to keep an eye on the Devil. Go. Save your mum.”

“You ready?” Dean asks me softly.

“Always,” I reply with a wink.

He smiles at me then takes my hand. Quickly we file into the rift. Unfortunately, it has positioned itself at the top of a steep hill in the woods and gives us an extra shove as we exit. Every one of us goes tumbling down, rolling on branches and fallen leaves. I manage to catch myself right after the second roll and slide the rest of the way on my hip. Gabriel ends up landing with his head in Castiel’s crotch. This seems to disturb them greatly. Both angels stand quickly in embarrassment.

“Yeah…” Gabriel says sarcastically. “Well, that was… fun. I could’ve used a heads up about this landing site.”

“Yeah,” Dean says as he brushes himself off. “Thought we’d get spit out in the same spot, but this isn’t it. Alright, well, Charlie… the other Charlie… said that Mary and Jack have an outpost in Dayton.”

“Okay,” Sam nods. “Let’s get our bearings and head that way.” He looks at Castiel and asks, “Cass, where are we?”

Castiel closes his eyes and focuses.

“Uh, Kentucky. Northeast Kentucky,” he replies. “Or what used to be Kentucky.”

Dean and I both look up at the sky for the sun and turn together.

“Which means that’s…” Dean starts, pointing with his index finger.

“North,” I finish.

He nods to me.

“Okay, so Dayton’s that way. Roughly,” Dean goes on. Two days by foot, but… that way.”

We nod and start our long trek. As we go I collect mushrooms and berries I find that I know are edible. 

“You’re pretty good at foraging,” Sam tells me at one point. “I noticed that when we were in the monster world.”

“Oh, yes, and what lovely variety they had there,” I reply with a chuckle. 

He snorts a laugh and nods.

“Yeah, that was pretty nasty.”

Dean looks at his brother then, from the other side of me. 

“You seem different since we got here,” Dean says to him.

“Really?”

“Yeah, like you’re… lighter, happier, more energetic.”

I observe Sam and nod in agreement.

“Yes, I would agree. Your shoulders aren’t slumped. And your back is straighter.”

“I don’t know,” Sam says, shaking his head. “Maybe it’s just, you know, Mom and Jack and… You know, I mean, we’ve been working at it so hard for so long, and now we’re finally here. We’re close. Can’t you feel it?” 

Sam grins at Dean and me. My heart clenches at this, the muscles in my stomach tighten. Dean doesn’t reply as he silently takes my hand in his. Sam watches us and his face suddenly falls.

“I-I… Sorry, I forgot…” Sam starts to stutter. 

He’s interrupted by a woman’s scream a little ways off from us. A man’s voice joins in. Sam and Dean rush forward looking for the people who are screaming. 

“Not our world, not our problem,” Gabriel reminds them. “Right?”

This doesn’t seem to stop the brothers who go running off into the woods. Pulling Tasuke Mamoru out of its sheath at full power, I run after them, Gabriel and Castiel following behind us. What we find is a nosferatu looking creature attacking a man and woman. Sam quickly cuts its head off. I look around listening for anything else that might be out there only to hear light rain hitting branches and dirt. Thunder rumbles far off in the distance as Dean helps the woman up who has been knocked down. 

“What the hell was that thing?” asks Dean to the man who is panting.

“What do you mean?” the woman asks in confusion. “A vampire.”

We all look down at the decapitated creature with far too many sharp teeth and pointed ears. 

“Baby, I’ve seen several kinds of vampires,” I tell her. “That is not one I’m familiar with.”

“Yeah, that’s not like any vamp we’ve ever seen,” Sam tells her.

“Who are you?” she asks him. Then she looks at me, her eyes going wide at the sight of my teeth and nails. “Are you some kind of monster?”

“No,” I assure her. “I’m evolving. Nothing to worry about.”

She and the man look at me startled and confused. But when no one in my group acts like this is unusual they seemingly let it go.

“I’m Sam. Uh, Dean, Lavinia, Gabriel, and Cass,” he tells her as he points to each of us in turn. 

“We’re not from around here,” Dean tells them. “Tell me, what makes a bloodsucker look like that?”

“Starvation,” says the man. “When Michael’s armies started to wipe out the humans, they didn’t think about monsters or what happened to ‘em when their food source dried up. Turns out, not eating makes them wild. Nothing but pure, stupid appetite.”

“Feral vampires…” I muse, looking down at the poor dumb creature. “I’ve met one who went feral, his name was Fenton… But he could still talk.”

“...Where you guys heading?” the woman asks. 

“North,” Dean tells her.

“To Dayton?” she asks, perking up. We all look at her shocked. “We were going that way, too. We’d heard the rebels, Jack and Mary, set up a satellite colony there, an outpost.”

“Well, look at that,” I say with a grin. “Baby boy is off saving people after all!”

Dean gives me a half-smile.

“Wait. What do you mean, ‘you were’?” Sam asks startled. 

She exhales sadly. 

“Me, Floyd,” she points to the man, “the rest of our group, we were crossing north through the Morehead Tunnel… stumbled into a whole nest of those things.”

“Nine of us went in,” says Floyd. “Only me and Maggie came out.”

“Is that tunnel the only way north?” I ask.

“There’s a mountain pass,” Maggie replies. “But it’s a long way around. The tunnel’s the quickest route.”

“If the long way is the safe way…” Gabriel says, ready to go.

“No. We’re already two days out from Dayton as it is,” Sam says. He looks at me then. “You think you can carry most of the load on this one?”

I smile and toss my hand at him playfully.

“Of course I can,” I reply smugly. “Your confidence in me is so sweet!”

“Okay, listen,” Sam tells Maggie and Floyd, “we’ve faced worse than a nest of vamps before. Much worse. So, if you still wanna get to Dayton, we’ll keep you safe. As far as we’re concerned, we’re going through that tunnel.”

“Come on, sweeties, Tasuke Mamoru and I want to play,” I say with joy.

“What kind of person are you?” whispers Maggie. 

“I’m the kind that you want in your corner,” I reply with a toothy grin. “Lead the way.”

About an hour later we arrive at a mining tunnel entrance. Maggie and Floyd are terrified when we get there. Pulling out flash flights they talk to each other, trying to give courage. Dean pulls out glow sticks for spelunking and starts snapping them and handing them to our group. I have him put it on the bag that’s on my back.

“Second time’s a charm, right?” Floyd asks.

I give him a wink.

“Alright, here’s the plan,” Sam says. “Stay close, keep walking. Anything moves, kill it. Vinnie, you lead. ”

“Of course, sweetie,” I smile. “Everyone, follow the glow stick on my bag and try to keep quiet. Not so much for my sake, but yours.”

They all nod, Dean grabs me as I start to turn around and kisses me quickly. 

“Don’t get too hurt,” he orders me.

“Take your own advice,” I whisper and kiss him again.

Turning, I pull my sword out at full strength and head straight into the tunnel. Of course, it’s dark, pitch-black really, but thanks to the flashlights of the others and the glowing power radiating off my blade I see just fine. Floyd trips behind me, making him cry out in panic. Maggie screams. I stop and close my eyes in annoyance. 

“Sorry,” Floyd whispers. 

“Well,” I breath, “now we’ve lost the element of surprise and stealth. They will know we are here now and start hunting us.” 

“...Right, everyone be on your guard,” Dean growls from behind me. “Vinnie, keep going.”

“What did he trip over?” I ask.

“How did you know he tripped?” asks Maggie.

“Because I don’t hear anything behind us, it’s all up ahead,” I reply. 

“Oh, uh…” she says, moving her flashlight around to see. “Oh, god…”

I exhale. 

“Part of someone?” I ask, not bothering to turn around.

“Yeah,” Sam says. “Their stuff is everywhere…”

“Alright, we need to keep moving,” I say softly. 

Once I’m sure they are ready I start moving forward again, we travel further into the tunnel. In the distance, I can hear something noisily feeding. Silently I tell the group to wait as I walk without a sound up to a snarling vampire, chewing happily on some body part of Maggie and Floyd’s former group. In one quick motion, with hardly any power, I cut off its head then signal for them to come. We don’t get much further before I start hearing the not so muffled breathing of hungry vampires. They are moving around us in other tunnels, getting ready to pounce. We need to move to a place where we can defend ourselves. There are too many side tunnels for them to come out of. 

“Pick up the pace,” I tell them softly.

“I don’t think…” Sam starts to say.

“Trust me. Pick up the pace.”

I start jogging ahead toward what sounds like water dripping. Thankfully we come to a small circular cavern with a hole in the ceiling that lets in light and water into a puddle on the ground. Several more tunnel openings come into this chamber. So, I listen to each in turn, they are filling up with hungry vampires. I turn and pull them all into the room quickly.

“They’re surrounding us,” I tell the group. “We need to stand and defend ourselves here.”

“How do you know that?” Maggie starts to say before she screams.

One has come out of a tunnel and grabbed Maggie’s backpack to drag her into it. Floyd screams her name and goes tearing after her. Dean rushes to her and hacks at it with his machete. While I stand guard at two others, Dean looks around the now quiet room.

“You okay?” he asks her.

“Yeah,” she says softly. 

He nods to her and looks around. 

“Hey, we got a blocked passage over here,” Dean says pointing to the one that leads north. “Need to move some rocks.”

Castiel and Gabriel walk silently over to the passage and start clearing. Slowly and softly I hear the low growling getting closer from two of the tunnels, one is our original tunnel. Maggie seems to be able to hear it now because her breathing gets faster.

“Guys…” she calls.

“Shh,” I tell her. “Just get ready.”

“I’ve got this tunnel,” Sam tells me softly as he comes to the one we’ve just used. 

I nod and focus on the others. Dean pulls Maggie and Floyd back, placing himself between them and the tunnels. As if on some silent cue the growling gets violently loud and they come barreling through the tunnels like ants out of their hill. I start swinging my sword, cutting their heads off with little effort. However, the number of tunnels does present the worst problem we’ve got, too many of them are getting in and I can only do so much without damaging the tunnel. I have no idea how stable this place is, I wouldn’t dare try a huge wave of power. Sam and Dean do what they can, but Sam is quickly overrun. 

“Dean!” Sam shouts.

“Sammy!” 

Quickly one of the vampires bites into Sam’s throat and pulls. It’s a horrifying sight that catches me slightly off guard. Without warning, I’m furious and I turn to the creatures I’m facing with rage. A deafening roar comes out of my mouth, coupled with a surge of power from my sword. This power shoots out at the creatures and obliterates them entirely. Spinning from them I charge after the disappearing Sam. 

_ If I can get him back, mostly intact, I can save him with a transfusion. Even if he’s only just dead, I can do it! _

I hear Dean shouting for me and Castiel running behind me.

“Cass, get them out of here,” I shout over my shoulder. “Go!”

“Got it!” Castiel replies as he turns back around and runs the other way. I follow the creatures, killing them in droves. Yet more keep popping up. Every time I get closer to Sam they change direction or pass him off to another group that’s come out of nowhere. They drag Sam to a chamber deep in the tunnels after what feels like hours. When I get there I kill them all, positioning myself between the tunnel and Sam’s body. More pour into the tunnel I’ve just cleared out and I make ready to kill them as well until I realize they are pushing, straining to get to us. But for some reason, they can’t. It looks like they are pushing up against glass. In fact, I can’t even hear their snarls now.

“...What?” I whisper. 

“Those are kinda yucky, huh?” asks a now familiar voice.

I turn and see Lucifer, sitting on a chair next to Sam’s bloody body. 

“ _ You _ are kind of yucky,” I murmur. “What are you doing here?”

“Found out my son was over here and I realized I needed to turn over a new leaf if I’m gonna be worthy of being in his life,” he replies in that cat that ate the canary way.

“What happened to Rowena?”

“Oh, we fought, but she repelled me into the rift. She’s fine,” he tells me with an uninterested tone. He looks to Sam then and wrinkles his nose, “He’s not looking so good.”

“Why do you care?”

“Well, I can bring him back, you know? So, ...actually, I don’t want to have this conversation twice, how about I just wake him up?”

With a snap of his fingers, Sam inhales hard and blinks, his wounds gone. I reach out for him as he startles back to life. 

“Sam!” I call. 

He grabs at me in a panic, gasping. 

“W-What happened?!” he asks me.

I turn my head to Lucifer and glare. Sam’s eyes follow mine.

“Someone broke out of his bonds and came here.”

“Boo!” Lucifer says, startling Sam. He chuckles as Sam’s grip on me tightens, “Hey, Sammy.”

“No.”

“Yeah…” Lucifer says with a grin and a sigh. 

“Y-You… you brought me back,” Sam says stunned.

“I did,” Lucifer agrees. “You’re welcome.”

Sam’s face gets tense and pinched. 

“Why?” he asks the evil angel.

“Oh, well, I was just about to explain that to… uh, what was your name? I didn’t catch it.”

“I didn’t drop it,” I reply cooly.

“Huh, well, her,” Lucifer replies with little care, “when I decided I really only wanted to say this once.”

“But Rowena!”

Lucifer quickly tells him what he’s already told me.

“Now, you’re probably wondering how I was able to pull that whole Lazarus trick, huh?” Lucifer goes on. “Uh, that’s a long story, but I was basically tracking you here, and then I came across a handful of Michael’s angels and I… ate ‘em. ...Huh, I guess it’s not really a long story, is it?”

“What do you want?” Sam asks, keeping a hand on my arm.

“What do I want?” Lucifer asks aghast. “I want what everyone wants. I want a personal apology from pop. I want rerun-free, year-round episodes of ‘Drag Race.’”

“Yeah, right, okay,” Sam spits. “We’re done here. Vinnie…”

“Are you going?” Lucifer asks him. “Be careful, it’s dark out there.”

“What are you doing with the vampires?” I ask, holding onto Sam. “I assume you’re the one keeping them at bay.”

“What?” Sam turns around to look back at the tunnel, shining a light at the hungry creatures pressed against the invisible barrier.

“Oh, dang it!” pouts Lucifer. “You weren’t supposed to ruin the surprise.” Then he changes gears and nods like a sage, “Yeah, they’re just hanging out there, I’m sorta holding them back. They’re just waiting for a little snap of the fingers, but I didn’t want ‘em flooding in here and eatin’ ya again, Sam and, uh… getting you, there… uh nameless lady. Not until after we finished our convo.”

Sam grits his teeth and whirls around to glare at Lucifer.

“What do you want?!” he spits.

“I want what you already have,” Lucifer says as he points to Sam and me. “A relationship with my son.”

Sam and I exhale sharply at the same time. 

_ No! _

“Okay, there was a time when I would just, you know, just grab him, but… I’ve grown.”

A pit develops in my stomach and is quickly filled with the sour sting of fear. This is far too close to the shit we had to deal with before Vanessa died. My heart is squeezing in terror.

_ Not again. Don’t let me lose another one to a fallen angel again. Please! _

“Yeah, sure ya have,” Sam whispers.

“I have, Samuel.”

“I feel like I’m going to scream,” I whisper as I grip Sam’s arm tightly.

Sam wraps his arm around me then and holds me close.

“I want my son, and you’re gonna help me,” Lucifer tells us threateningly.

“How?” Sam asks.

“Well, I don’t feel like he’ll give me a chance unless I come bearing gifts. Yep. Boop!” Lucifer touches Sam’s chest with his finger.

“No,” I hiss at Lucifer. “You let those things in here and I will fight them until I no longer can. You might try to kill me again and again, but I won’t die because I can’t. But what I can do is give you a flat out answer of no. I don’t make deals with the devil. Now…”

He smiles at me and snaps his fingers. I spin around ready to take on the vampires… who are no longer there. We are now standing out in the woods. There are signs with burned warding all over the place. 

“I’m not asking you to like it,” Lucifer tells us, mostly me. “Just acknowledge the truth, that I saved Sam and I was the one who lifted you two from the darkness and into the light. Okay?”

“Get bent,” I spit at him.

“What she said,” Sam replies.

Lucifer glares at me then clears his throat. 

“Let me make this really easy, I’m gettin’ to Jack one way or the other,” Lucifer says leaning toward me menacingly. “Now I can blow you up, little girl, make that snapped neck feel like a massage.”

I laugh at him and start walking away, pulling Sam along.

“Jokes on you,” I reply over my shoulder. “That will be my third time getting blown up and it will only make me stronger.” I stop briefly to look over my shoulder at him. “And also, you’re not the only one that brings back the dead.” I look up to my charge’s green eyes. “Sorry I let him beat me to the punch.”

Sam nods as he walks along beside me. 

“It’s alright,” Sam tells me.

“Wh-What?! Are you part angel or something?” Lucifer calls after me. He pauses in thought and starts to run up behind me. “Hey, I got a son, hear he’s pretty handsome…”

My nose wrinkles up in disgust.

“What you are suggesting would be very incestuous for him and me,” I reply. “Stop talking. Now.”

Suddenly bells sound and people with rifles come out from behind trees, aiming them at us.

“Don’t kill anyone!” I hiss at Lucifer as Sam and I put our hands up in the air.

The fallen angel rolls his eyes at my words.

“Uh… we’re looking for my brother, Dean Winchester and the rest of our group?” Sam tells them. 

“Who are you?” asks a gruff looking man.

“I’m Sam Winchester, and this is Lavinia,” Sam points to me.

“And I’m Lucifer,” Lucifer says waving his hand in a friendly fashion. “I hate Michael too.”

They aim their guns at him and glare. At that moment something seems to click in Sam's mind. He leans at his waist, getting closer to my ear.

“...Maybe he should get to meet Jack,” Sam says out the corner of his mouth to me.

I glance briefly at Lucifer.

“I think that is probably a bad idea, but still, you have a point. The best way for him to find out who his father is would be to let them meet. Lucifer can’t hide his true nature for long…”

“I can hear you,” sings Lucifer, a fake smile on his face for the hunters around us. 

“I don't care,” I sing back. Then to Sam, “But we keep an eye on him and never let him be alone with Jack.”

“Agreed,” Sam nods to me then to the other men, “He’s with us.”

“...Come on,” says the man with suspicion.

We nod and walk forward.

“Golly, thanks guys,” Lucifer says with glee.

“It isn’t for your sake,” I snap. “Now, be smart and don’t misbehave. Or you’ll lose your one shot.”

“‘Cause you’re gonna, what? Kill me?” Lucifer asks skeptically.

“I could,” I reply with a nod. “But I think Jack would beat me to it.”

There is a stunned silence from him as we follow the men. We are taken down a long, well-worn path through the woods to a small set of buildings. There, standing in the middle of a small campsite is Jack who looks ready to burst into tears. Castiel, who is next to Jack, looks at us in confusion. Dean stands next to a slightly older woman in her forties, she has blonde hair and Dean’s eyes; Mary. Gabriel is standing by a dilapidated house. They all look so relieved until Lucifer comes up behind us. 

“Hello, son” Lucifer says with a soft smile.

Sam’s face falls into an expression of sorrow at the sound of the angel’s voice. I ignore Lucifer and open my arms to Jack.

“Sweetie!” I call to him with a grin and walk over to him happily.  Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I hug him tightly before I kiss his forehead. I give him a once over like I would my own child and smile at him.  “Look at you! I feel like you’ve gotten bigger,” I smile at him joyfully. “Maybe it’s just your power I’m feeling?”

“Yes!” he grins. “My power has grown so much and I can really control it now. I’ve taken down several of Michael’s generals all by myself.”

“Of course you have! I’m so proud.”

Jack hugs me tight with a happy smile. Sam walks over to the pretty, blonde woman by Dean and hugs her tightly.

“Sam?” Dean asks in a disbelieving whisper, “Lavinia?”

I turn and smile at him as he reaches out to grab at my hand

“What happened?” Dean asks in a gruff voice to his brother.

I take his hand and pat it.

“He, uh…” Sam clears his throat and glances at Lucifer. “He brought me back.”

Dean looks past his brother to Lucifer then he looks at me.

“Yep,” I nod with displeasure. “I got to Sam’s body, and was going to do…”

“She would have done it,” Lucifer says quickly. “But I kinda beat her to it… What can I say? I’m a changed angel. It’s what I do.”

“It is not what you do,” argues Castiel angrily. “How did you get in here?”

“VIP pass,” Lucifer tells him playfully. “I’m with the band.”

“He broke his bonds and Rowena defended herself by kicking him through the rift,” I correct him. “If you’re going to talk, don’t do it with half-truths.”

“Aww, come on. Shouldn’t you be thanking me? I-I gave Sammy an extra life. Besides, what with my… little bro here," he indicates Gabriel, 'being a hot mess, I figured you’d need me. So, I’m here to join the team.”

As Lucifer comes closer to Jack, I can feel the entire group go ridged with tension. While I hold Dean’s hand in mine, my other hand holds Jack’s.

“Your name is, Jack,” Lucifer says.

“And yours is, Lucifer,” Jack replies cautiously.

“No. No, no. No,” Dean snaps and moves quickly over to Jack, letting go of me. Pointing at Lucifer he says, “You don’t talk to him.” Then to Jack, “And you, don’t listen to him.”

“Um… don’t you think that’s his choice?” Lucifer says pointing at Jack.

“No,” replies Castiel.

“Are you trying to keep me from my son?” Lucifer asks us defensively.

“Well, this is Kelly Kline’s son,” Castiel tells him. “He’s nothing like you.”

“Don’t say he’s nothing like me,” Lucifer whispers. “I”m the only one who understands him. This power he has? I’m powerful, dangerous, ruthless. In the best sense… though.”

He winks at Jack and I grind my back teeth together.

“No,” Dean says flatly. “Kill him.”

He looks to Gabriel then to me.

Lucifer chuckles, “He can’t. He’s not strong enough.”

“But she is,” Dean points to me.

I wave before I turn to Dean.

“Honey, I really do understand where you’re coming from with this. Truly. And I’m fighting my own fears about it as well, But I think you need to hold off on this,” I tell him softly.

“What? No!”

“Yeah,” I nod knowingly. “Jack might not have asked questions yet, but someday he will and it would be best if he got to see first hand what his father is like.”

“At the risk of human lives? Maybe our own?”

I look at Lucifer coyly.

“That won’t happen though,” I say softly, “right? Because you’re a  _ changed _ man? Not like the man who snapped my neck in the motel or the one who tortured Sam…”

“Right!” Lucifer says quickly. “Right, I’m very much changed.”

“...Yeah…” I mutter sarcastically.

“Lavinia,” Dean says warningly. I pat his chest reassuringly, Jack’s face gets darker every time Dean talks. “No,” Dean shakes his head. “Gabriel, you’ve got the blade!”

“Dean…” Gabriel says softly, shaking his head. 

Stop it,” Jack says in a low voice.

“He’s the Devil! Kill him!” Dean orders Gabriel.

“Stop it!” Jack shouts just as I reach out to touch his shoulder.

Jack grabs my outstretched hand and with the sound of wings, we appear somewhere that is not the camp. I look around at the trees around us before I look at a crouching Jack who is now holding his head in his hands. Gently I sit down next to him and pull him the rest of the way to the ground. He leans against me, breathing heavily, and I wrap my arms around him.

“Deep, long breaths,” I tell him soothingly. “In your head, count with me. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.”

I keep counting, helping Jack to calm himself down. Eventually, his breathing is back to where it should be. 

“Dean gets so angry,” Jack whispers. 

“Yes,” I reply with a deep nod. “He sure can. You know he did it because he loves you and is scared, right?”

“...I think so.”

“I’ll talk to him when we get back. Don’t worry.”

There is a moment of silence and then Jack asks me tentatively.

“Why don’t you feel the same way Dean does?” 

“Because I think you need a chance to learn on your own,” I say as I run my fingers through his hair. “I mean I’m terrified that you’ll get hurt. I’ve already lost someone I love to a fallen angel this year. But I have faith that you’re not stupid and you are very much a person who wants to do good. You will not be easily swayed by someone intending evil as long as you pay attention.”

“You believe that?” Jack asks, looking at me with round eyes.

“Of course I do,” I smile. “Now, listen to me very closely. I have encountered many versions of Lucifer and there is a reason that in every world he is called the ‘Father of Lies.’ Remember that he did not create you first and that you need to always do your research on everything he says. You know you can trust the Winchesters and Castiel, ask them about everything Lucifer says.”

“And you,” Jack adds. “I’ve got you too.”

His words hit me like a rock. I sit in silence as I gently run my hand over his back soothingly. With a harsh exhale I finally shake my head.

“No, sweetie,” I whisper sadly. “When I get you guys back home, my mission will be done. I’ll have to go.”

Jack sits up violently and looks at me with horror.

“What?” he cries, his voice cracking. “But you said that… But I just got you guys all back. A-And there’s Mary. You haven’t gotten to even meet her. You can’t.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have a choice in the matter,” I tell him as I look down at my lap. 

“But… but you’re my family…” he whimpers as he starts to cry.

I nod as I look at the big tears rolling down his sweet face. Gently I pull him into another hug.

“I will always feel the same way about you,” I tell him soothingly. “I will not stop loving you and everyone else in our family. Please don’t doubt that. If I could stay, I would, I promise.”

“Wh-why can’t you?!” he cries out, clinging to my back, his face pressed into my shoulder.

“...Because,” I sigh as tears well up in my eyes, “slaves do not have freedom of choice. We do what we are told…” I hold Jack and rock him, knowing that this may very well be the only time I will be able to do this for him. My heart is slowly crumbling at the fact that my time is dwindling. Pulling Jack’s face up to look at mine, I say softly, “Please, guard your heart when it comes to Lucifer and try your best to do good.”

He nods.

“I promise I will.”

“Good boy,” I tell him with a sad smile as I wipe at his face with soft fingers before I wipe at my own. “We should get back. We don’t have much time left if Lucifer is here.”

Jack nods and stands before he helps me up. He looks at me in silence for a moment then pulls me into another hug.

“You’ve always felt like a mother to me,” he says softly. “Even though I didn’t get to have you for very long. I wish I didn’t have to lose another one.”

“I wish you didn’t have to either,” I tell him sincerely as more tears run down my cheeks. “And I am so honored you feel that way. So, _so_ , honored. Thank you. You are definitely a son to me.”

We pull back to look at each other again before he takes my hand in his and wipes at my new tears. In the blink of an eye and the sound of flapping wings, we are back at the cluster of buildings. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any rights to Penny Dreadful, X-Men, Supernatural, or Once Upon a Time.  
> Traveler Lavinia, Gersham, the Citadel, and the Council are mine and should not be reproduced without my permission.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Smut toward the end.

Lucifer and Castiel are standing not too far from us when we come back to camp. They are talking.

“Speak of the not Devil,” Lucifer says out of the corner of his mouth to Castiel.

The other angel rolls his eyes in annoyance.

“Son,” Lucifer then says to the boy next to me with annoying pomposity.

We start to walk to them, holding hands tightly.

“It’s Jack,” Jack tells him.

“Jack, talking with Lucifer, it’s… it’s not a good idea,” Castiel tells him. “I’m sure Lavinia told you as much.”

“Actually, I told him the opposite,” I reply. “Now, why don’t you take me to the others?”

“What?! No, you can’t be serious,” Castiel tells me.

“Have you no faith in our boy?” I ask with mild annoyance. Then I turn to Jack, “If you need anything, just ask.”

“I will, thank you,” Jack gives me a quick nod of his head before he lets go of my hand.

I take Castiel’s arm and pull him away.

“Trust me,” I say softly. “Lucifer cannot hide who he truly is and Jack is far too powerful to be harmed by that schmuck.”

“Thanks, Lavinia,” Lucifer says my name pointedly. “You’ve been so helpful. Thanks for having faith in  _ me _ .”

I look over my shoulder and smile. 

“Oooh, you’re very welcome,” I reply cattily. “I most certainly do have faith in you…”

“Vinia?” Jack calls to me tensely. I stop and turn, “Will you stay?”

I nod to Jack then gently push Castiel in the direction we were originally going to go.

“Tell the others we’re back,” I urge Castiel.

He doesn’t reply, but instead, walks quickly away while I step back over to Jack’s side. 

“Uh… right,” Lucifer mutters as he looks at me. “Yeah, need to keep her close by, huh? She and you must be real… uh, close.” Jack and I don’t reply. While Jack scrutinizes his father with his sharp blue eyes, Lucifer changes gears, “This… this dad thing is sort of new to me. So, um… Do… Do you have any questions that you wanna ask? Don’t let my status as a legend hold you back. Now just… fire away.”

“Why does everyone hate you?” Jack asks.

“Huh…” Lucifer exhales heavily, his eyebrows going up in shock. He looks at me and nods to Jack, “Wow, he just got right to the… right to the point. That’s good. That’s good.” He looks back at the boy. “Good question. Um… So you’ve, uh, probably heard the stories. Right? Anything ugly happens, any evil befalls the world, it’s my fault.” Then he leans forward and whispers, “Fake news.”

“Try that again,” I snap sharply.

Jack looks at me then to Lucifer who quickly backpedals.

“Well, I mean, yes, I have done things that I am not entirely proud of. I have led the occasional soul to ruin. This is true. But, Jack, it’s because humans are  _ so _ messed up. They’re… they’re so willing to be led.”

“My mother was human,” Jack reminds him.

“Awesome lady. Incorruptible,” Lucifer says vehemently shaking his head. “Not like that. You know, great kisser. And, uh, lost my virginity to her.”

I clear my throat and shake my head quickly. Lucifer looks at me and quickly drops what he’s saying.

“No? Too soon?” he asks me. “I mean, uh… the point is… humans are not perfect. They are hard wired to fall. And when they do they need a fall guy.”

Lucifer points to himself playfully.

“Huh…” I muse sarcastically. “You know I spent a lot of time researching things back in the bunker and I have to say there really were some nasty creatures that were so evil that God threw them into a cage or a faraway place so that they could never touch humans. Isn’t it interesting that he did the same with you?”

He looks at me with irritation.

“Okay, true or false, Vinnie. Um, for almost, like, ever, I’ve been locked away in a Cage?”

“Hmm,” I smile with amusement. “True or false… didn’t you corrupt human souls into demons so that they could corrupt even more?”

“Ah! No, no. No answering a question with a question,” Lucifer wags his finger at me with false playfulness.

“Fine,” I reply with a calm smile, “Then I’ll answer yours if you answer mine.”

He grips his fingers into fists.

“Next question, Jack?” Lucifer turns from me to his son.

“Who locked you up?” Jack asks.

“My dad, ‘cause I told the truth. See, he loved humans so much, he couldn’t see their flaws. And I told him about it, and he got mad. He felt like I was personally dumping on his masterpiece, and so he kicked me out.”

“Uh-uh,” I say as I roll my eyes. “Try that one again.”

“Were you there?” he snaps at me.

“You’re not the first Lucifer I’ve met,” I tell him calmly. “But you twits always have the same sob story as if you couldn’t be bothered to be more creative. But the truth is always revealed when you are pressed on. So, spit it out!”

He glares at me.

“You’re just trying to make me look bad in front of my kid.”

“No, I’m trying to make you tell the truth, Father of Lies. If you can’t be bothered to do that then you should remain silent. Tell him how you wanted to be worshipped. How you wanted your father’s place and tried to fight him for it. Speak the truth!”

He closes his eyes and grits his teeth. Taking several deep breaths Lucifer then opens his eyes and nods.

“Yes… I screwed up. And Yes, I have done some bad things,” Lucifer looks from me to Jack. “I had my reasons, and I just want the opportunity to get better. Doesn’t everybody? Don’t you?”

“Hmm,” I say softly as I touch Jack’s shoulder.

He looks at me briefly as I go over and lean against the side of a run-down building.

“So, what do you think about this? Your grandfather is God,” Lucifer asks, slightly changing the topic. “Think about that. Of all the powerful families in history… Forget the Tudors, Trumps, Jackson Five. We’re numero uno.”

I roll my eyes at his words. Even now he’s still trying to ride on the coattails of his father.

“What is he like? God?” Jack asks.

“Well,” Lucifer starts.

“Hey! Hey!” Dean hollers as he comes running. “I told you no talking and I told you no listening.”

“Dean,” I call back. “Calm down. I’m right here. They are fine.”

“You don’t know that,” Dean snaps at me. Then, glaring at Lucifer he mutters “Shoulda gagged him.”

“Dean…” I say softly, coming over to him and touching his arm.

“No, I need to know about my powers, my family,” Jack insists to Dean.

“Jack, we are your family,” Castiel says, close behind. “We’ve been protecting you. We’ve been honoring your mother’s wishes. We’re your family.”

“Jack, you have no idea who Lucifer really is,” Sam says gently, popping up last.

“And I never will unless I talk to him,” Jack replies. “Vinia gets it.”

“Jack…” Dean starts.

“Dean!” the boy shouts. “He’s my father.”

Dean looks at the rather smug Lucifer with concern.

“Guys,” Mary says coming up to us suddenly. “We need to get going to base camp. That’s where we’ll pick up the rest of the people we’re taking with us.”

“W-We’re taking more people?” I ask in confusion.

“Yeah…” Dean growls. “Twenty-five, plus us.”

“Wow, I…” I trail off in thought. “I hope we make it in time.”

“Yeah,” Lucifer says slowly. “Hey, Vinnie have you met Mary Winchester? She’s the mom of your boyfriend.”

“I’m over two-hundred years old,” I reply with a growl, “I don’t have  _ boy _ -friends.” Then to Mary, I extend my hand, she takes it perplexed. “Hello, Mrs. Winchester. I’m Lavinia.”

“No last name?” Lucifer asks.

“No,” snaps Dean. “Now, let’s go.”

Dean obviously wants to shut Lucifer up as quickly as possible. Within thirty minutes we begin a slow-paced march. Our own group is mixed in with the one Mary is bringing to the main base. The Winchester family leads the way with me on the other side of Dean. Lucifer and Jack behind us. Castiel and Gabriel are out scouting for Michael’s angels.

“We should reach base camp in a couple of hours,” Mary tells us.

I nod while Dean looks over his shoulder at the father and son.

“Sam, go back there and see what Helter Skelter’s sayin’ to the damn kid,” Dean orders his brother. 

“Yep,” Sam nods and slows his pace.

“Take it easy on Jack,” Mary tells Dean. “He’s been fighting a war. He’s trying so hard to prove himself, but… he’s lost people, friends. He’ll take a minute to get through it.”

“And, Dean,” I say softly. “This Lucifer is not nearly as conniving or dangerous as the others I’ve met. Trust Jack to be smart. He really is.”

Mary nods at my last sentence. Then she looks around her oldest son at me.

“I’m sorry… our introduction got cut short before,” she says to me. “You’re, um… over two hundred years old?”

I chuckle and nod. 

“Yes, I am.”

She smiles at my laughter.

“How is that even possible? You look younger than me… except for the um… the teeth. Can I ask… what are you?”

“She’s what’s called a Traveler,” Dean tells his mom. “She’s from a different world outside of all these. She takes care of stories and their characters.”

“W-What?” 

“Well, that was rather blunt and confusing…” I mutter. “You didn’t even believe it until you had to go to the Citadel with me.” 

To Mary, I explain simply and delicately what it is I do. The same talk I have with everyone. 

“So, are all Travelers in their hundreds?” she asks.

“No, I was experimented on during my first mission and given a healing factor that is much faster than any normal humans. Also, I seem to be evolving, which explains my teeth, nails, and actually a roar I seem to have developed.”

“There was the super strength too,” Dean points out. 

“Yes, forgot that one.” 

“...I see,” Mary says slowly. “And you’re dating Dean?”

“Hmm… Dean, how would you like to answer that?”

“Uh…” Dean starts just as we see Castiel coming towards us.

“I can’t find Gabriel,” Castiel tells us. “He should be back by now.”

That’s when Gabriel comes barreling out of the tree line shouting, “Angels!”

A herd of them running behind him in tactical gear. Everyone draws their guns and cocks them, I pull out Tasuke Mamoru at full power.

“Kill them, on my command,” the angel at the front says.

All at once, they burst into dust, completely gone. We look at where they once stood in confusion. 

“You’re welcome,” Lucifer says behind us. “Welcome. Right? Don’t… thank me at once.” He looks at Jack and nudges him, “See? Team player?” 

“Huh,” I mutter and put my sword away. 

After the stunned silence of the group is gone we begin our march again. The base camp we finally arrive at is an auto salvage yard inhabited and maintained by a man named Bobby Singer who looks like he was once a truck driver. Sam, Dean, and Castiel seem to recognize him as someone they knew in their world. 

“Creeps me out, you know?” Sam says looking around at the junked cars.

“Yeah, but it’s no Sioux Falls,” Dean says reminiscently.

“Why should it look like Sioux Falls?” asks the other Bobby as he hands us cups of something that is probably supposed to be coffee.

“Uh, just our, uh, our Bobby back in our world, he…” Sam starts.

“He liked to freeze his ass off every winter?” Bobby asks with mirth in his eyes. “Yeah, well, this Bobby’s gonna pass on that. Anyhow, it’s good to see you boys again. I don’t seem to remember you though,” he says holding out his hand to me.

I take it and smile.

“I’m Lavinia, Vinnie if we’re close,” I tell him. “I’m newer to the group.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he tells me. “I heard you’re pretty impressive with a sword from Floyd and Maggie.” I nod and he goes on, “I’m afraid that kind of weapon won’t do you much good against a bunch of angels.”

I smile knowingly when Dean speaks up.

“Don’t worry about that, Bobby. She’s not a noob. That sword is more dangerous than any angel killing bullets you got.”

Bobby raises an eyebrow at me with interest. I reply with a shrug and smile.

“Are Charlie and Ketch around?” Sam says moving on.

“Yeah, they’re in the armory,” Bobby replies.

“Okay, well, we’re gonna have to get on the road soon,” Dean tells him.

“Yeah, Mary said something about that,” Bobby says skeptically. “She said you wanna take a group of people back to this ‘Other Earth?’”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s the idea,” Dean nods.

“Well, no offense, but that may be the dumbest friggin’ idea in a landfill of dumb ideas,” he tells them. 

“Lovely,” I mutter. 

Bobby shrugs and goes to round up the leaders of the group. A half-hour later we find ourselves talking to several of the other leaders in the survival group. The tent we’re in is spacious enough but damp from the rain.

“So, let me get this straight,” says a dark-skinned man. “You want us to follow you through a magic door that’s gonna blast us the hell outta here and into some kind of Fairy Tale World where everything’s pretty?”

“Okay, that… that’s not exactly what I…” Sam stutters, “what I was t-trying to say, but…”

“Andy,” says Mary to the man. “Look, I get that you don’t know my sons, but you do know me. That world does exist. Hear them out.”

“That isn’t any kind of a Fairy Tale World,” I add. “I’ve been to those. This one just isn't filled with angels who want to kill you simply because you’re human.”

“See, and I don’t know that I can trust you either,” Andy says to me. “You look like some kind of monster pretending to be a human.”

“I suppose to you, I might,” I nod.

“Listen, no one here is runnin’ out on our buddies,” Andy cuts me off. 

He obviously doesn’t want to listen. 

“Nobody’s saying, ‘run out,’” Dean tells him irritably. “Guys, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re losing. Okay? You’re outmanned. You’re outgunned.”

“My brother and I…” Sam cuts in, “back home, we’re sitting on the biggest collection of lore and weapons in  _ our _ world. Now, something in there… it-it might be enough to even the odds.”

“So, we find that, then you come back here with a plan, a plan to beat Michael and his armies,” Dean gives them an encouraging head nod. “And then you win.”

“Exactly,” Sam says. “You may think you don’t know us, but you do. We’ve been where you are. Hell, we are you.”

There is a long pause as the leaders look at each other then back to the Winchesters.

“...We’ll talk to our people, take a vote,” says Andy.

“That’s all we ask you,” Dean says lowly.

“Thank you,” Sam adds.

They stand up then, eyeing us as they walk out of the tent. Bobby passes them as he comes closer. He shrugs his shoulders in a, ‘well, how did it go?’ fashion. Dean replies with a shrug in return. I smile and pat Dean on the arm.

“I’m gonna go for a walk before I doze off for the night,” I tell him. “Why don’t you go see how Jack is doing?”

“Yeah, okay,” Dean nods to me. “Stay close to camp.”

“I shall,” I reply with a smile. “Be gentle with Jack and try listening instead of talking, hmm?”

It takes Dean a moment to think about this then he nods again. Heading out of the tent I meander through the rows of junked cars and parts. At one point I end up stepping into the middle of a conversation between Gabriel and Lucifer.

“Lucifer, do you really see a version here where he sticks by you?” asks Gabriel.

I’m intrigued by this question. Finding a stack of tires I sit down, not exactly out of sight, but currently unnoticed. Lucifer opens his hands out, palms up, and looks down.

“I think the kid is pretty blown away by his old man, so… Yeah. I do,” replies Lucifer.

“He’s a kid,” Gabriel says with little patience. “He likes shiny objects and magic tricks. But he’s not like you. I can see it in his eyes. His mother’s bloodline, the Winchester’s influence…”

“I can be an influence,” Lucifer says in a depressed sort of way as he picks up a bolt and chucks it. 

“Ugh,” Gabriel says disgustedly. “He’s not gonna want that. He’ll see who… what you are.”

Lucifer glares at his brother and throws another metal bolt.

“Everyone keeps saying that…” he grumbles. “I’ve changed.”

Gabriel looks back at his brother incredulously. 

“Dude, it’s me,” Gabriel replies as he stands up from his own seat of tires. “I’ve known you since the stars were made. You can’t change. You’re incapable of empathy or love. You live to be worshipped or feared. Or both.”

“Okay…” Lucifer mutters nodding his head. “I-I see that you’ve…. You’ve drunk the Kool-Aid. Fine.”

Lucifer is trying to play the wounded animal again…

“Oh, is this the part where you tell me that, uh, Dad made up all those so-called lies about you? Got it.”

Gabriel turns away, rubbing his eyes in annoyance.

“Yeah!” Lucifer says angrily. “Yeah, pop locked me up, okay?”

Spinning back around Gabriel snaps, “Don’t you get it? Humans were innocent and beautiful. But you…” he scoffs, “you couldn’t stand that the old man loved them more than he loved you. So, you tempted them and you corrupted them just to prove how flawed they were.”

“You better be careful, man,” Lucifer threatens in a low growl.

But it’s too late, Lucifer has opened the floodgates, and Gabriel, while his grace is low, he’s got his fighting spirit up and going.

“Dad saw that your evil was like the first few cells of cancer…” Gabriel says in a soft growl back. “That it would spread like a disease unless he cut it out.  _ That _ is why he locked you up, to stop the cancer. But it was too late then. And guess what? It’s too late for you now.” 

Lucifer’s eyes are glassy as Gabriel turns his face away from his brother. Lucifer quickly turns away too. It’s a shame that this won’t change anything for Lucifer. I shake my head in disappointment before I get up and head back to the main center of the compound. When I find Dean, he’s sitting by a fire, leaning against a metal building. He looks up at me and gives me a half-smile as he pats the blanket he’s sitting on. Sitting next to him I happily let him pull me against his side, an arm around my waist.

“I talked to Ketch,” he tells me softly. “Said their armory was easy to move, so if they decide to come with us in the morning, we can take their weapons cache with us.”

“Cool,” I reply.

“...He wanted to know how you were…”

I look at him curiously, “Okay?”

“I told him you were fine,” Dean says then clears his throat. “He seemed to get the picture.”

“Did you think he had some crush on me or something?” I ask with a laugh to my tone. Dean doesn’t answer. “It wouldn’t have mattered even if he did,” I reassure him. “Rest now, we’ve got a lot to do tomorrow.”

I feel Dean nod as he puts his head against mine. Soon we are both dozing.

Several hours before dawn we are woken up by Sam, Mary, and Jack who are more than pleased with the news they bring.

“Bobby just told us,” Jack blurts, “They took a vote to see who was willing to come with us back to our world and it was unanimous, they  _ all _ want to come!”

“Bobby included,” Mary adds with a smile. “Seems they have a good feeling about you boys.”

“Which is great,” Sam says with a smile, but it looks like he’s bringing rain to the parade. “But how the hell are we going to do this? I mean, we only have a few hours left, and…”

“Yeah… No, I know…” Dean says thoughtfully as he looks around for an idea. “I-I have no… Where’s Bobby?”

Dean jumps up, looking at a rust bucket of a school bus with wild eyes. Pretty soon everyone that has any idea how to work on automobiles is running around trying to get that giant beast working again. Meanwhile, Mary, Jack, and I are helping Ketch and a red-haired woman named Charlie, load up as much of the armory as possible on top of the bus. By the time the sun is about to come up the bus is rumbling with spluttering, squeaky life; Lucifer turning the key in the ignition.

“You’re gonna let, Lucifer, drive?” Gabriel says skeptically as he looks through the window from outside.

“This way, we know what he’s doing,” Dean tells him. “And Cass can keep an eye on him.” Dean looks down at his watch as people start to file onto the bus. “We’re running out of time.”

“We’re down to one hour and fifty-seven minutes,” Sam says looking at his watch.

“Yeah,” Dean replies looking at his brother.

Sam, Dean, Jack, Gabriel, and I pile into a lead vehicle and take off out of the auto salvage yard. Lucifer, Castiel, Mary, and everyone else ride in the bus behind us; armed to the teeth in case we run into hostile angels. 

Going as quickly as the vehicles can, we make it to the rift with only minutes to spare. The rift flickers pitifully a short distance from us. It’s smaller than when we went through it originally.

“It’s closing,” Sam shouts to the bus. “Come on!”

People start filing out, while I jump up onto the top of the bus, pulling weapons off and tossing them down to waiting arms. There’s a surge of light behind me from the rift and the crackle of electricity. I look back momentarily to see that the rift has gotten brighter and is now back to its original length.

“Oh, hell, yeah,” Dean shouts.

“How’s that possible?” Sam asks in disbelief.

“Five dollars, it’s Rowena,” I grin.

Dean looks up at me with a smile before he looks at the people on the ground. 

“Alright, move it everyone, single file,” he tells them. “Cass, show them how it’s done.”

Castiel nods and leads the line through the rift like a thread through the eye of a needle. Mary, Bobby, and Charlie are the next, followed by many other survivors I don’t know. A small twinge comes to my stomach as I throw down the last of the ammunition to Ketch. 

_ This is ending so fast. _

As I hop down I hold onto my sword waiting to be one of the last. Jack looks back at us briefly before he goes through the rift next. Lucifer tries to follow, but Sam stops him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up,” Sam tells him.

“What? I-I wanna be with my son,” Lucifer tells him as he looks at the rift.

“We need you and Gabriel here in case something goes wrong,” Sam reminds him. Lucifer rolls his head in annoyance. “Wasn’t that the whole point of you being on the team?”

Lucifer bounces his knees, annoyed, but steps back out of line next to Gabriel. We keep ushering people through the rift while we keep our eyes open. Only a few more left to go through and there’s a loud boom in the distant sky. We all look to see a flaming ball come hurling down to the ground a short distance away. Three survivors go flying as they scream, one of them is Andy, the man we talked to the night before. They don’t get back up. 

As the smoke and dirt clear a dark-skinned man with shadowy wings steps forward looking like someone who just walked out of a western. His wings disappear as he smiles. 

“Gentlemen,” says the man. “And Lady…”

Lucifer and Gabriel seem to recognize him. Lucifer is the one who steps forward.

“Lu,” says the man, obviously an angel. “You don’t really wanna try this again, do ya?”

“Um…” Lucifer says with obvious confidence. “Yeah.”

The man nods as Lucifer winds up with a ball of energy in his hands. He hurls it at the man’s torso. The energy collides and pushes the man back a couple of steps, this seems to surprise him. Returning the blast, he fires a second quickly after, hitting and knocking Lucifer to the forest ground. Lucifer grunts then coughs up blood. The man smiles at this before he looks up and notices Gabriel.

“Can it be?” asks the man. “Gabriel?”

Gabriel looks at us and steps forward.

“Go, I can buy some time.”

“Gabriel, don’t,” Sam says urgently.

“All I did on Earth was run,” Gabriel tells us. Then he looks at me, “I’m not running anymore.”

I smile at him and nod.

“I’m very proud of you,” I say softly. 

He returns my nod before he looks back at the other man that I am now assuming is this world’s Michael. Gabriel stops for a moment to look back at us and shouts, “Go!” 

Dean nods as he grabs at me and Sam to pull us to the rift. However, we stop to watch when the two angels start exchanging blows that sound like gunshots. Gabriel fights with our archangel blade, while Michael seems to be using his own. Unfortunately, the blows are quickly over when Michael overpowers his brother and jams his blade into Gabriel’s ribs. There is a flicker of light from the wound and our angel screams in pain before he falls to the ground, very much dead.

“Gabe, no!” Dean shouts, making to run to him.

Sam holds him back. I look at the rift as it flickers again weakly. Grabbing Dean’s jacket I pull on him, knowing Sam will feel this too.

“We have to go, now!” I urge them. 

I don’t let go as I pull Dean along behind me. We come crashing back into the library of the bunker. All the survivors we managed to get through are waiting for us. Rowena sits at the table next to the rift, a book open, looking like she hasn’t slept in days. She blinks at us and exhales sharply.

“About bloody time!” she shouts at us just as Sam comes through and the rift closes up. “I could’nee hold it one more second!”

I smile at her and get up to give her a hug.

“I knew it was you,” I tell her joyfully. “Well done, you gorgeous woman!”

I feel her weakly chuckle against me as she hugs me back. 

“Where is Lucifer?” she asks when she looks behind us.

Sam’s face gets tight as he shakes his head.

“He didn’t make it,” Sam says.

Jack steps forward then with sorrow on his face. 

“What?” he whispers. “No”

Letting go of the tiny witch, I go to him and pull him into a hug. Even as I do this there is obviously no one else who feels the need to mourn this loss as booze starts coming out of nowhere, cases of beer, whiskey, so on. Indistinct conversations start to pop up as people start to allow themselves to feel safe and calm for the first time in their very long fight. When I do let Jack go he shuffles off to a corner of the library silently. Mary looks at me with a nod as she goes to comfort the boy. After several minutes, Bobby stands up on a chair in the command room with a glass of what looks like whiskey. 

“All right, listen up,” he projects loudly. The conversations die and Bobby goes on, “We made it. Don’t know much about this place, but it’s a place without Michael, so that’s a turn for the better. I don’t want none of you goin’ soft on me because we are gonna get ourselves ready and go back home and set our people free.” 

Everyone cheers at this as they raise their drinks.

“He’s been here for five minutes,” Dean says softly to Sam, Castiel, and I. “Look who’s taken over the joint.”

“While we’re celebrating, let's not forget our brothers and sisters who didn’t make it…”

Bobby’s words are drowned out of my ears by the trilling alert from my communication device. Dread fills me then as I close my eyes. I have to force myself to look down and read my forearm.

[Objective accomplished. Return time: 4 Hours. Next Mission Waiting…]

I feel the hairs on my arm raise up as sorrow fills my whole body. For the first time in a very long time, I feel like my legs might give out. Dean notices me looking at my arm and leans closer to read what it says. 

“No,” he hisses, grabbing my forearm and covering it. “You can’t.”

“I have to,” I tell him softly. “I… I’ve got to go pack…”

“Lavinia, no,” Dean demands, refusing to let go of my arm. “We gotta find a way to make it so you can stay.”

“That isn’t possible,” I tell him as I pull away, not looking at him.

It’ll hurt too much.

“Vinnie?” Sam asks his tone tense.

I quickly move through the group, still carrying my satchel and sword, to get to my room. The survivors aren’t paying any attention to me as I easily move through them without touching anybody. Dean, followed by Sam and Castiel, however, are pushing their way through the crowd, calling after me loudly. I’m already in the room I’ve been borrowing, quickly, expertly, packing my things away in my duffle. Doing my best to breathe deeply, I keep myself from sobbing from this personal tragedy. Dean stomps in with his brother and angel. I don’t bother to turn around. 

“Can’t we go to the Citadel and demand that they let you stay?” Sam asks urgently.

“They don’t make deals like that,” I reply with a broken voice. “I was lucky to get the one I did a while back. I’m done, I have to go. That was the deal we made. You guys knew this was going to happen. I reminded you almost constantly.”

“That doesn’t mean it makes it better,” Dean snaps, his voice cracking. “Lavinia…”

I keep packing and let the tears glide down my face without speaking. There isn’t anything else I can say. 

“Lavinia, look at me,” begs Dean before he grabs my shoulders and whirls me around. I close my eyes and refuse to look at him. “I… You can’t…” his voice is so small and broken. I want to die. “D-Don’t go yet. You got three hours and some change.”

“You want to... postpone… to sit in pain... and heartbreak?” I ask in between sudden gasps for air.

“Yes,” he demands. “I can deal with that if you’re here doing it with me.”

I finally open my eyes and look up at him. He’s crying too. This causes sobs to escape me as I push into his chest, wrapping my arms around his ribs. 

“I don’t want to go!” I cry out. “It’s-It’s not fair!”

Dean’s arms are around me, tight and so unwilling to let me go. 

“Why can’t you... be done?” he growls through his tears.

The sound of people retreating from the room, closing the door behind them, barely registers as Dean and I cry, holding each other. 

_ Why do I have to give up love one more time?  _ I ask myself, my mind feeling heavy in despair.  _ When do I get to stop and be loved again? When do I get to have a life? Will it always be like this?  _

“I should have…” Dean whispers as he kisses my hair, “...I shoulda made love to you every day when I realized I was in love with you.”

Inhaling sharply I cling to his body and tilt my head back to look up at his face. He leans down his tear-stained face in pain, our lips touch. The kiss is passionate, sorrowful, but very much desired from both of us. When we part I look up at him once more.

“We’ll pretend that this isn’t goodbye,” I say softly, pushing back at tears that ignore me. “We’ll pretend… that we’re celebrating what happened today.”

Dean gulps back a sound as he pulls my head to his chest again, this time he clings to me, shaking. I hear him cough and clear his throat before I feel him nod.

“...yeah,” he says, his voice low and crackling. “Yeah, we’ll, uh… do that.”

I nod and reach up to his face to pull him down to me.

“Come here, love,” I whisper as I pull his head closer, pressing his lips against mine.

He gives a slight nod before his hungry mouth moves against mine. Our lips are salty from tears but we don’t pay that much attention. When he pulls back, Dean clears his throat and forces a smile as he bends at the waist. Wrapping his arm around my thighs, right under my butt, he stands with me over his shoulder. 

“Wh…” I start with a surprised smile.

“Victory…” he clears his throat again, “Victory shower first.”

With his other hand, as he turns to walk to the door, he smacks my rear with a loud pop. A surprised laugh escapes me as he opens the door and ducks to go out so he doesn’t hit me with the top of the doorway. Dean walks down the hallway to the shower room that is currently vacant. Shutting the door, I hear him turn the lock before he sets me down. Without anything else to say, Dean puts his palms on my jaw, his fingers in my hair, he pulls me into a deep, ardent kiss. When he pulls back briefly to start working on my clothes I look at my forearm. With the electronic lens in my left eye, I wake up the screen and instruct it to play slow, sensual music. Dean looks at my face then my forearm and smiles. I smile back and kiss him as I kick off my shoes. 

When our clothes are off, thrown against the wall by the door, we sway slowly to the music as we step in time over to a shower head attached to the seafoam green tiles. As we touch each other’s bodies, the muscles, the scars, Dean turns on the water. It’s cold at first and makes us laugh when we both shriek. It doesn’t matter for long because as the water heats up, so does our touching. Kissing at my neck while I run my fingers through his hair under the water, Dean moans when I pull gently. Using the back of my nails, avoiding hurting him, I lightly scrub at his scalp. This makes him grip my butt cheeks and pull my pelvis against his now very wet one. 

Under the water, we rub at each other’s bodies, partially cleaning the other person while memorizing and touching. Dean turns me suddenly so my back is to him, my front facing the wall. I press my butt against his hard length and sway my hips to the music. His hands grip my hips before they slide through the water up my stomach, up to my breasts. 

Something about the way this feels isn’t like two experienced people saying goodbye. The way he touches me, the way he kisses my shoulder, presses his fingers against the skin on my breasts and stomach, it feels fresh. Like walking out into a spring landscape after early morning rain.

He gently presses my shoulder with one hand while he holds my hip with his other, bending my torso. I press my hands against the pale green tiles of the wall; as Dean’s hand slides from my shoulder down my back, to my butt. Rubbing his shaft against the slick, slightly parted and ready lips between my legs, he slowly pushes in. A sharp inhale escapes my lips before he pulls out slowly and then pushes back in. With his free hand, he starts to massage and play with my breast and nipple. I push back into him with my butt and am rewarded with a grunt of pleasure from him. Dean leans against my back and bites my shoulder playfully. Turning my head to that shoulder while he goes in and out, he meets my face with a kiss. He growls hungrily then and pulls out. Spinning me around to face him, he presses me up against the wall then bends slightly and grabs up my thighs. Pushing his pelvis against mine, he kisses me hungrily while I wrap my wet legs around his slick hips and my arms around his neck. With little guidance, he finds his way back into me making us both moan loudly into each other’s mouths. 

Holding my butt in his hands, Dean starts to go in and out faster. Kissing and biting at each other in between hard, rasping breaths, I can feel that delicious fire start to burn in my abdomen. His hard, thick penis is greedily devoured by my wetness. It’s when he cries out that I realize I’ve dug my hard nails into his back out of pleasure. He glares at me with enjoyment and starts to pound into me harder. I suppress a scream, biting my bottom lip. Holding onto his neck with my right hand, my left goes to the tile wall behind me and punches holes through them with my fingers. Dean grins when he sees I’ve got a firm hold. 

Catching my left nipple in his mouth, his teeth biting and playing with it, he picks up the pace in between my legs. The fire is growing hotter in me and I’m breathing hard and ragged. Dean seems to be just a step ahead of me as he lets out a satisfied, shaking groan into my sternum. His body goes stiff against mine as he seems to lean into me more, pushing me harder against the wall. When he pulls back he slowly slides out of me and sets me back down on the ground. Releasing my grip from the wall, I shake my cement and tile dust-covered hand off and kiss him. Grabbing up my face, Dean kisses me again and again, pulling my body against his.

We finish cleaning off quickly in the shower and head back to my room in towels. With the door firmly shut and locked, Dean pulls the towels away from us both. Then he grabs me up by the waist and walks over to the bed, kissing my chest and neck. Laying me down in the middle of the bed, he kisses the skin on my stomach, making a line down to the lips between my legs. He kisses them, inhaling deeply my scent before he parts them and starts to lick and play with me. His breath is hot and sensual as he nibbles my clitoris gently, at first. When he kisses it and sucks hard a sharp cry escapes my mouth.

Positioning my thighs on his shoulders, Dean doesn’t miss a beat with the sensitive button of nerves. Lapping up the wetness with his tongue, Dean licks two of his fingers and pushes them in. It takes him only moments to figure out where the G-spot is and just how to press it. Coordinating his fingers with his mouth I am soon rocking my hips in time with him. That fire we had started in the shower room is back at full force and I’m moaning into my right hand. My left dives into his hair and pulls as my muscles contract hard. The moan that escapes Dean’s mouth vibrates through the lower part of me. When the wave of my climax hits me I am biting the fleshy part of my palm, tears streaming down my face into my hair. 

The puncture wounds are healed on my hand by the time that Dean is crawling up to lay next to me. He wipes the blood on my lips away before he pulls me into his embrace. Pulling my leg up over his hip I push in to kiss his lips. When we release each other we are breathing heavily and smiling. However, our smiles take very little time to get sad again. As amazing as that was, our time is quickly coming to an end.

“...I… love you,” he tells me softly. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I know,” I tell him, refusing to look away from his eyes. Touching his face, memorizing how it feels, the wrinkles, the color of his eyes, the freckles across his nose and cheeks, I say, “I love you too.”

We kiss again and lay there for just a little bit longer before we get dressed; me in fresh clothes, Dean in the things he wore earlier. After I turn off the music playing from my communication device, he helps me pack up my things in silence. I’m wondering what I can leave behind for him, for them, when Dean stops what he’s doing.

Not looking at me he asks, “We need to get a picture of all of us together before you go… And can I have one of just you and me?”

“You don’t have to ask me that,” I tell him softly. “I’d give you whatever you ask as long as I’m able.  Dean looks at me then with a half-smile as he nods. I pull him to me, my arms around his ribs, and smile encouragingly.  “Go on.”

He nods again and pulls out his phone. Turning the camera on, making sure he has the settings right, he holds it out with his long arms to make sure we are both in the frame. We put smiles on while he wraps his free arm around my shoulders and then we look at the screen. He pushes the button, the light flashes, and for a moment we get to see the picture. It's good, sad, but sweet. 

“Another,” I say softly, kissing his cheek.

I don’t care if I’m late or not right now. Closing time be damned.

Dean nods with a grateful smile to me. Going up on tip-toe, I kiss his cheek again, my eyes closed. I see a flash of light through my eyelids. When I open them Dean is pulling away to turn his face to me. He smiles again, this time genuinely, and kisses me. I smile too as we kiss deeply. Another flash. When we pull away the air is sad, of course, but there is a sweetness there too. Dean scrolls through the pictures with satisfaction. 

“How do I give you these?” he asks me. “You need them too… right?”

I smile and nod as I take his phone. Placing it on my forearm I use the electric lens in my eye to copy the pictures from his phone onto my communication device. In less than five seconds I’m done and handing back his phone. 

“Now, I have you, always,” I tell him with a sad smile.

“Me too,” he says softly. “How much time do you have left?”

I look down at my forearm and sigh. 

“Thirty minutes,” I tell him. “Let’s get everyone together for a picture?”

He nods as he picks up my satchel and duffle. I collect my sword and gun holster before I take his empty hand. It takes little time for us to get out to the crowded command room. Word seems to have spread that I’m leaving as people are nodding to me with thanks and saying goodbye. When we get to the library, where our people are, Dean tells them what he wants to do. 

“Of course,” Rowena says in her Irish accent with a nod. “I’ll take the picture, shall I?”

“Thanks,” Dean says softly, trying not to cry again.

Setting my things on the table closest to my door Dean comes back over to me. He takes my left side, Sam takes my right; I pull Jack over and position him in front of me, my arm over his right shoulder, across his chest to his other. Thankfully he’s my height and so cannot hide me. Castiel stands at Dean’s other side while Mary stands at Sam’s. Dean’s arm goes around my waist, Sam puts an arm around my shoulder, and I grab Castiel’s closest hand to hold it. While Rowena lines up the shot I hear Dean clear his throat. Tears are threatening to spill from my eyes. They finally do when I feel Jack put his hands on my forearm and his own tears fall there. 

“Ready?” Rowena asks as she pushes a cheerful tone. “Smiles, if you can, loves. Three, two, one.”

The flash goes off, then again two more times. When she lowers the phone she’s smiling, while tears are rolling down her cheeks. 

“Seems none of us could keep from crying,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. 

Jack squeezes my arm before he pulls away and turns to look at us. Rowena hands Dean his phone. He then hands it to me to copy the pictures again. Sam clears his throat and scrubs at the tears on his face as he watches what I’m doing. When I’m done I hand the phone back and look at my forearm.

Twenty minutes are what I have left. We gather at my door. The other survivors of Apocalypse World watch a short distance away. Dean hasn't stopped touching me since we came out of the room. Jack cries hard as he wraps his arms around my torso, burying his face into my shoulder. I hold him close with my free arm.

“I am so, very sorry,” I whisper as more tears come to my eyes, “that I can’t stay and help you grow. That I can’t stay and be a real member of your family. If I could, I would.”  I look at Sam and Castiel over Jack’s head.  “I’m sorry that I can’t do anymore.”

Sam glances at his brother for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip. 

“It’s not right that we have to lose you too,” he whispers as he looks back at me. 

“No.”

A sob comes from me. Closing my eyes, I squeeze Jack tighter before I let him go. I give him a kiss on the forehead. Then I open my arm to Castiel and then Sam. When I release the younger brother, Mary steps forward and pulls me into a hug. Though I’m slightly surprised at this, I hug her back.

“I am so grateful that you… took such good care of my boys. That they could come to love you this much. Thank you,” she says softly.  My free hand goes to my face and tears flow like they come from a faucet. When she pulls back she dabs at my face and smiles at me.  “I think I would have loved having you in the family.”

“Th-Thank you,” I stutter around my tears as I bow my head slightly. 

As I look back up my communication device sounds an alert.

“Are you out of time?” Dean asks in a panic.

[Alert: Notice!]

“I… I don’t know what that means,” I say softly as I turn back to my door, still holding Dean’s hand.

Abruptly a white envelope slides under the door and bumps the toe of my shoe. I let go of Dean’s hand to stoop and pick it up. Wiping at my face again, I stand and open it up. A small letter written in John Clare’s handwriting says:

Miss Lavinia,

Please hurry. The full moon is tonight. 

With care and affection,

John Clare

“Oh, no,” I whisper and look at my door then at Dean. “I’ve got to go. I’m not completely out of time, but I am. They need me.”

“Why, what’s wrong?” Sam asks worriedly.

“For them, it’s a full moon and there isn’t anyone who can control Ethan and not get hurt,” I tell him. I look back at Dean, my eyebrows together. “I… don’t…” I sigh and look down at the letter. “I’m so sorry…”

“I know,” he tells me. “Our jobs don’t stop. No matter how much everything hurts.”

A dry sob whispers out of my lips as I close my eyes. The feeling of his gentle, rough fingers against my face are quickly followed by his soft lips. When he pulls away only a small distance I open my eyes again and look into his eyes.

“I love you,” he tells me. “And I’m always gonna love you. Don’t you…” he bites at his top lip, his eyes tearing up, “Don’t you ever forget that.”

I nod and wrap my arms around his neck.

“I never, ever will. Please, remember that I would stay because I love you just as much,” I beg him. “I love you,  _ so very _ much.”

Feeling him nod I pull back. Clearing my throat and trying hard not to start sobbing again I touch the flower knob of my door. A chirp comes from it to inform me I’ve been scanned. I turn to look at the wonderful people I will be leaving forever. Their faces I try to memorize. The feeling of love and sympathy and gratefulness from the whole room is noted. Turning the knob I open the door without looking at it, I don’t dare turn away from them.

“I love you all, so much,” I cry again. “Be careful, please.” I take a step back, a foot in the tingling void. “Mission…” I look at Dean’s beautiful green eyes. “Complete.”

I step through. The door closes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any rights to Penny Dreadful, X-Men, Supernatural, or Once Upon a Time.  
> Traveler Lavinia, Gersham, the Citadel, and the Council are mine and should not be reproduced without my permission.


	18. Author's Note

I just wanted you know that Act 3 is up. Have a great Saturday!


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